The Girl With The Purple Streak

Speaking of Jacquie's girl . . .

Last week I reminisced about Jacquie and her girl and her boy's lovely visit to New London last summer. And I noted my niece's fabulous Purple Streak. And frankly, I think the acquiring of said streak deserves a little more attention.

Before.

Not only is she streak-less, but I don't think 
she's combed her hair in a week.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

And they're off. After lunch at the Tavern, the San Diego contingent headed to Jennie's salon, with their trusty photographer in tow . . .

Jacquie's boy may or may not have been quite as enthusiastic about the whole enterprise as his mom and sister were.

Heading in . . .

. . . and there she is! The streak-giver! Who I don't think is used to quite so much paparazzi . . .

These endeavors are family affairs . . .

. . . and the boy is very concerned with the process. Which begins with the comb-out. Poor Jennie -- that can *not* have been easy.

Hah!

And they're off . . . 

I've *been* in Jennie's chair, people . . . 

. . . and I'm telling you. It's a good, good thing.

'Course, when I'm there, I don't typically get such an enthusiastic peanut gallery.

Hi Mistah!

Part I: Bleaching the pre-streak bits.

Actually, Part I is all we've got -- the peanut gallery went out in the world to visit the Whale Tail during the next part.

That face? Right there? That is why I've loved this child so deeply since the day she was born.

And . . .voilà!

The Purple Streak.

In all its spectacularity.

Okay, this face is the second reason I've loved this child 
since the day she was born.

Thank you, Jennie!

The Girl With The Purple Streak . . . 

. . . beyond awesome.