“Now, turn around. Momma’s gotta go get her shower and get dressed, so you can take her out and spoil her rotten!”
“That’s not fair, at all, leaving me hanging, like this!” I grumbled, turning around.
Briefly, I wondered if she’d forgotten the mirror on her dresser, across from the foot of her bed — in which I could see her reflection with perfect clarity.
“Well, at least I’m not telling you to tune in, tomorrow – same Bat-time, same Bat-channel, Jon!” she laughed.
I had no choice but to let her go. I knew that continuing to grumble would get me simply nowhere, with her, when she was in a mood like this. I directed my gaze to the mirror, and almost betrayed myself, as she came fully into view. She’d already stripped off her t-shirt, and she was totally bare. I caught a brief flash of her luscious tits, but my attention was rapidly diverted to her lower abdomen – and the little landing strip of hair just above her mons.
My own shower took quite a bit longer than normal. I stepped out of the spray smelling of watermelon and kiwi from head to toe. It wasn’t until I was standing naked in my own room that I realized the flaw in my plan. I groaned when I realized we were both going to be subjected to make overs today. Grumbling to myself I dressed in my most comfortable jeans, a pair of fruit of the looms which I hated, a T shirt that didn’t really fit, and sneakers that I bought six months ago.
When I had told Mom I wanted a car for my 16th birthday, and then suggested we spend the day playing in the mud she had given me a silly little look. That day we bought a used jeep, and she taught me how to really play in the mud. Since it is mine I wanted to drive it as we went to get ourselves made over, hopefully by people who actually knew what they were doing. I drove the twelve miles east to Austin and we ended up at the mall, a place mom had somehow managed to avoid.
I remember Grandma always saying that to start something new one must first build a foundation. Mom always brushed her hair before getting dressed in the mornings so I decided that was a good place to start.
“What is wrong with my hair?” Mom squealed as she realized where I was taking her.
“Nothing, I love it and so will you. We’re just going to get a little trim and maybe some highlights.” I guided her with one hand on her back into the salon.
“You could use a cut too then.” She grinned as I directed her to an empty chair.
Thankfully she did not make me get my nails painted but it was a little distracting having them trimmed and filed while someone cut and styled my hair. I mean seriously, who would be looking at my toe nails?
While a lovely full figured beauty queen worked on my toes, an equally lovely though much older lady chopped off my hair. Once she had cut it with the scissors, as if that wasn’t enough, she took out a pair of clippers and buzzed it too. She left just a bit on the top so she could run her fingers through it and make it dance.
I didn’t get to watch mom’s transformation. They cut off her ponytail, seeing this almost made me cry. The only thing that kept the tears at bay was the fact she looked even more radiant without it. Her hair was now cut just above the shoulders and layered with rich reddish brown highlights and just a speckle of glitter that framed her angelic face.