When I was a girl, my mother had a love-hair affair with Shirley Temple. On Saturday mornings, we were always getting our hair done by mom. Oh, the boxes of DIY perm solution, hundreds of perm rods, tissue paper, and the smell. Oh, that smell.
My mom was determined - definitely hoped - that her little girls with their stringy, black hair would mimic Temple's golden rods. No, we were blessed with Rick Jame's jheri curls.
Happy Birthday, Mum.
