Our Favorite Redhead sent over a crimson and white scarf to wear for the Bama game. The Tide brought home a championship. It was her juju that carried the team no doubt. This morning she sends a missive.
“Full day yesterday, thought you could laugh with or at me! See attached.” It’s an adventure story. Some girls live life chock full of shenanigans and The Redhead never disappoints. I’m sure day’s end found her in front of a fire, feet up, cocktail in hand, still laughing.
Since the dolls love nothing more than laughing at and with each other, I’ll share.
Seems our little redhead needs to take care of some things in the big city. She spent her life in Phoenix then made the trek to Prescott where she mostly enjoys the simpler life except for things like eye doctors, skin specialists and the ladies who lunch. For some reason, they didn’t follow her out of town. Whenever she makes the trek she crams as much joy into one day as possible.
The reason for the trip is the eye doctor. Ever efficient, Favorite Redhead figures she’ll pencil in errands as well as lunch with a pal and a visit to the skin doctor for a touch up.
She gets coffee, drops off gifts, goes to her favorite laundry, stops in to say hi at the nail place—did we mention she’s the friendly sort and spent a lifetime in Phoenix? You can’t walk a block without running into someone she knows.
At the eye doc, the exam includes dilation. You know that squirt in your eye stuff that’s slightly stingy, makes the eyes water and turns us into moles just emerging from underground. Doc says she needs new lenses. Squinty Redhead motors over to the lens place and wonders if she looks stoned. Did we mention the fold up glasses the doc put over her Ray-Bans? It’s a great look.
From there she heads to lunch, squinty, foldy glasses and Ray-Bans. Can’t take them off. The world is so bright. Time to kill before the skin specialist; Redhead takes herself to Nordstrom Rack, Poor Little Rich Girl and My Sister’s Closet. Never been there? Oh girl, fix that nonsense right now. Best consignment ever. The Redhead proudly boasts her total ticket–$18.56. Don’t know what she bought but she’ll breeze into the next party amidst oohs and aaahs over attire and shoes. Depends how snotty you are if she’ll tell you where they actually came from.
Skin specialist shoots the Redhead’s face with her annual injectables—you know the ones. Don’t move your face, speak or laugh. She jumps back in the car and spends a silent, stone-faced hour-and-a-half to Prescott.
She knows how I appreciate a good story of embarrassing oneself, especially when it’s not me. She would have called but this morning she’s still trying to figure out how to sip coffee. They say the swelling will go down in a few days. Her eyes, however, are wide open. All the better to see her non-moving face.
The Duchess Diaries 