Thanksgiving plans go awry when hair reality looks dire

With eyes closed, Marcine smiled as she played her perfect Thanksgiving plans over in her mind:

Her home sparkled, which reflected hours of dusting, polishing and re-arranging décor. Her guests laughed and joked with one another easily in the family room as they waited for dinner. Finally, Marcine sashayed out of the kitchen into the dining room with a pie in one hand announcing dinner. As she perfectly placed the pie on the table, she locked eyes with her boyfriend, who smiled nudging his mama saying, "That's my baby!"

Then, Marcine opened her eyes. Staring at herself in the mirror, she screamed. Her dream would not become a reality with hair like that. It was dry, and frazzled. With only two days before the big feast, Marcine realized she needed more help with her hair than with her party.

"What am I going to do with this hair on Thursday," Marcine asked herself. With all her preparations to host her first Thanksgiving, she forgot to book her hair appointment. Since she also prepared for another first, the first meeting of her new boyfriend's mother, her appearance had to dazzle along with her home.

"Let me pray that Kim can squeeze me in on Wednesday," Marcine thought as she dialed her hair salon. After a few rings, Kim, her hairstylist, picked up the phone.

"Hey Kim, I know it's last minute before the holidays but can you work me in around 5 p.m. tomorrow for a color," Marcine asked.

"Now you know that I am booked solid on Wednesday with all you other last-minute hair-nistas," Kim answered.

"Can you do 4 p.m.," Marcine hoped.

"Girl, my schedule is so tight," Kim answered emphatically. "At this point, I will be in here until 9 p.m. and I still have to handle my own turkey business."

"Kim, I know I am asking for magic but I need some," Marcine admitted. "I am not about to look like Miss Celie from the ‘Color Purple' when I meet my man's mother for the first time at Thanksgiving."

"You should have told me that this hair appointment was mission critical," Kim chuckled. "I can only imagine what you have done to ‘my' hair since your last visit." Kim glanced again over the appointment book and noticed that the name in the 4 p.m. slot had a habit of arriving 30 minutes late.

"If you can be in my chair by 4 p.m., I will do my part to ensure you impress the mama," Kim said. "You cannot be late, though."

"Bless you," Marcine exhaled. "I will be on time."

Hanging up the phone, Marcine lets out an easy sigh. Now, she can turn her thoughts back to cornbread dressing.

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