Color me uncomfortable

My mom and I share a lot of things. We share jokes, laughs and sometimes, when the mood hits, feelings. We also share the same colorist. Or, we did at least, until my mom replaced her with her friend who does it cheaper.

See, a couple of years ago, my mom turned me onto a colorist that worked a local salon. I loved her and after years of dealing with hair that never responded to color the way I wanted it to; I was finally happy. And then one day, a couple of days before my appointment I got a call from said salon who told me my colorist no longer worked there. Her departure was sudden and you know how these snooty places are, they will offer you NO DETAILS but throw in a 20% discount if you stay with them and try another colorist. Gray with roots and highlights that were coming to end of summer brassy hue, I panicked and called my mom. She quickly referred me to another girl there who she went to a few times and liked. I made an appointment with her, only to find out a few days later where my former colorist went. It was too late and 20% off at the salon's steep price was enough of an incentive for me to at least try. I went to my appointment, everything was fine and I recommended a friend who was also abandoned by our former colorist leaving.

By my second visit with the new colorist, my mom already replaced her with her friend. I figured she might casually mention how my mom was and that she hasn;t seen her in a while but i didn't expect a drilling on the topic.

"How's your mom? I haven't seen her in a while. I miss her."

"I haven't seen her either," I said.

Um, okay. I am hard pressed to believe that anyone would think in 6 weeks I heard nothing from my mom or saw her for that matter but the lie was worth a shot, right?

A few minutes later.

"I really miss your mom. Who is doing her hair these days?"

"Um, I dunno."

Now, anyone who knows my mom knows that anytime I see her she's either added more highlights, went darker, cut it herself or something. Either way, anytime I see her, I am asked what i think about her hair.

By the time I walk out ther door, the colorist has not so subtly asked me about my mother's whereabouts no less than five times. It made me a wee bit uncomfortable to say the least. I am sure my mom is not her ONLY client. In fact, I know that between my friend and I, she has at least two. So, really, what is the big f-ing deal? I came home and called my mom who thought it was just as obnoxious as I did. "Just tell her i am doing my hair myself," she said. Oh, okay, like she was going to buy that line any more than the line I fed her about not seeing or hearing from my mother in six weeks.

So, last night, I had another appointment and I forgot about the drilling until a few minutes before I left. I thought for sure she would not mention it again. The topic was off limits like me not asking if she's seen my former colorist or knew of her whereabouts. Two can play at the Where's Waldo game, missy. I sit down in her chair and she asks me how I am 5 times in a row and then it hits me that I may not be dealing with the sharpest tack in the box. After i tell her I am fine, great, wonderful and can't complain 5 times in a row she proceeds to remove my headband and sift through the root wreckage.

"So, how's your mom?"

You have got to be kidding me!!!!

"I miss her. Where has she been?"

I wanted to tell her she was there about an hour getting me a gift certificate which I almost wish she hadn't gotten because now I REALLY want to return to my former colorist.

"Well, in the winter she tends to go darker so I think she is just doing it herself."

Of course, she didn't buy that one. Who would?

Again, I did not escape without 3 more questions about my mom's MIA status as well as a reminder to say hi to her out the door and a standing invitation to come back whenever. Maybe I can use that giftcard for manis/pedis and a massage after I give birth.