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"You Do Know That's Cabbage Don't You?"

That is it, I am going to dye my hair a mousy, chocolate brown colour.
Being the stereotypical blonde has got me into much trouble over the past few years it's unbelievable! I have my appointment at the hair dressers for tomorrow!
It all started many years ago, when I was 3, a cute little bridesmaid, waiting to get picked up in the big fancy car, covered with pink and white ribbons and bows. Tightly gripping my little woven basket filled with flowers. Then, all of a sudden, a desperate need for the toilet. At the very last moment as always. just what everyone wanted to hear, "I need a wee !"

"Come on then, quickly!" I was told,
Being me, nothing is ever simple as I managed to get myself locked inside as the car arrives. The groom was probably stood at the alter, panicking, "Where is she?"
The bride had been told to go around the block a few times, so she's having a nervous breakdown. "Have they lost the groom?"
No, it was just little innocent me.

Being blonde starts as soon as I crawl out of bed in the morning and into the bathroom. With the deodorant in one hand, spraying that fine mist, under my, "hang on a... my toothbrush? That is definitely not where it is supposed to go!"
From that moment on I know it is going to be a one of those incredibly bad and frustratingly, embarrassing days.
So, as the day moved along, for a giggle, my best mate swapped a Smartie for a small stone. You can see how this is panning out can't you? I didn't even look at what I was about to put into my mouth, as I tried to bite into it I felt and heard a not too pleasant crunch. I soon realised I was munching on a stone. Every time I smile, I will forever see the chip in my tooth. Thanks Dan!
After that traumatic experience, I really didn't think it could get any worse.
It wasn't until my kitchen was filling up with smoke that I thought it really was the end of me. my hair colour truly had the better of me, I knew I should have dyed my hair brown many years ago!
I was getting ready for a friends birthday. We were going out to a very swish, fancy bar. I had to look my best. I put the cooker on to heat up ready to cook my dinner so I could start on my hair. Half way through there was a musty burning smell. Being brave, I investigated, soon realising that there had been a cheese grater in the oven?! The only explanation for this had to be Mum, she puts things in to there to dry

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