Cocoa Krispie

Okay, it's on.

Seems that EVERYONE"S a comedian...Uh huh. yeah. Sisterly competition... Older sister knows many juicy tidbits on younger sister....Also knows family members read this, so I will share one that won't cause much discomfort.

Amelia Bedelia (sis #2) and I have been VERY competitive our entire lives, but in a very mellow kind of way. As I said earlier in another post, we look alike, only she has much bigger hooters than I do. It used to bother me, but now I get all her shirts that shrink and suddenly it's not such an issue anymore. (I am easily swayed by material things like that.)

Sometimes when one of us gets new clothing, we send pix to the other one, only to have a pix of the exact clothing sent back hanging in the other's closet. It's so weird.

Our kids, when they were little, used to grab onto the leg of the wrong mom and look up only to run away in confusion calling out for their mommy.

One night, I was visiting from out of town and slept on Amy's couch. Early the next morning, her youngest at the time, Cody, crawls up beside me and begins to snuggle. I was so touched and loved right back on him. He buries his head in my chest and suddenly stops. Then in a muffled voice says, "What's your name?" hahaha kid's say the damnedest things..........I get it. I have no boobs. ENOUGH!

If we go to the same place, we have to call and inform each other what we are wearing, just so we never have to re-live Lauren's birthday party incident.

Mom has a picture of us where our hair was long and we both look like Wynonna Judd minus the guitar. It's frighteningly funny. (And no, don't even ask.)

Anyway, back to: IT'S ON!!

I worked (and I use that term loosely) with Amy in a tax return place that happened to be next door to our friend's Hair Salon, and right across the street from our favorite restaurant. It was a temporary job due to the fact it was a temporary set-up for those instant tax returns (and the fact the owner was a weasel, but paid us well).

In Jan., business was slow and the two of us would sit in the office and talk and laugh and try to decide what we would have done at the salon for that week. Amy taught me to smoke and I caught the trash in my trashcan on fire. After we had our nails done, Amy would type on the computer and make me listen to the clickety click of her nails for hours on end. (She wasn't typing anything, she just loved to hear the clickety click.)

Raymond was in between Amy and I in school. Raymond owned the salon next door and had just come back from California. Raymond was now known as Ra'mon (dropped the "y" and "d" and made the "o" long) and was now no longer a chick magnet (dropped the "ch" added a "d"). And was FLAMING!!! We loved him in school and were probably his only 2 friends, so he felt very comfortable telling us his gay escapades that included dancing, clear plastic suits, and lots of alcohol. It was uncomfortably hilarious and because he was so happy and so successful, he decided to give us a free makeover. I was first and my perm (it was 1991, PEOPLE!) was the best I have ever had and worth about $250 dollars. Then it was Amy's turn.....

As she sat in the chair, her hair freshly washed, I hovered closely to watch his Edward Scissor-like hands work their magic. Ra'mon began to comb thru Amy's long wet red hair, when Amy politely reminded him, "Watch the cocoa krispie mole I have on the back of my neck." "Girl, I will," he sang.

It went a little somethin' like this:

• Comb, comb hard, comb harder, snag, comb really hard-
• "My cocoa Krispie!"
• loud girlie scream
• loud scream from Amy
• squirting blood out of the cocoa krispie now hanging half off Amy' neck
• Ra'mon running that funny" elbows by his sides with arms flailing wildly while screaming loud girlie scream" gay man run
• towels flying
• pressure being applied
• Jill on the hairy floor ROLLING and laughing her ass off

I honestly can't remember what the haircut looked like, but I do know poor Ra'mon had to endure intensive Post Traumatic Stress therapy not unlike that of post war heroes. He moved soon after that and we were left with ugly nails and no one to make us laugh with gay antics.

My hair still looked great by the way. For 2 years. That was one good perm.

And yes, Amy had a cocoa krispie mole. HA!