Whenever I look into the mirror and spot a white hair, horror would fill me and I’d get one of the girls to pull it out if I can’t reach it myself. Vain, silly or otherwise, one just cannot have a white strand sticking out, shouting to the world to be seen.
Just back from my recent holiday, I decided to do an overhaul — starting with the face with a facial, the body with a massage and the hair with an inventory check on black versus white. As it was a public holiday, it was perfect to get these done.
The going rate is ten cents per white hair but a penalty of twenty cents is incurred for them to pay back if a black hair was accidentally pulled out instead.
M1 is usually more obliging for this task and makes about two to three bucks from the hubby, and about one to two from me. However, whenever I am under duress from some super duper stressful project at the studio, three bucks is easily made. M2 would add salt to the wound by stating, “Mummy, you’re old.”
Coincidentally, I just concluded one half of a very stressful project prior to the trip to Bali.
And the evidence was evident.
“I found the loot!” M2, who was available and obliging, proclaimed. Ooh… That hurts. “How many?” I cringed.
“I’d say 30 but I’d just do 25 then I’m going to bed!” Well, I can’t argue with that.
M1 who just came out of the bathroom, giggled and rubbed it in, “Nah! I think there’s 40!” Hrmph.
“Argh! This one’s a scam! Half black, half white. Does it count?” The ever dramatic M2 asked then decided, “I think no. Okay, back to 23. Right, mummy… 23?”
Sigh, the perils of a stressful creative designer’s life.
Angieneering 
Remarks