Mr. J was at a convention in Manhattan on Friday and so of course I had to send him out of his way to pick up something that can't be found up here in the boonies where we live. Like black hair products. This man must really love me, because trekking to Sephora in the middle of the circus that is also called Times Square (where we both coincidentally once worked) is not exactly how he'd like to spend his time while visiting the city. Especially in 7 degree weather. I'm so grateful he agreed to stop off and picked up a jar of Carol's Daughter's Mimosa Hair Honey. That Brad Pitt might know something about black hair after all - this stuff works magic on our ZenBaby's hair, just like he claimed it did for his Zahara.
And it smells absolutely amazing, like some type of tropical smoothie (as if Mr. J and I need another reason to want to eat ZenBaby right up!).
Had I known I'd now be living 90 miles away from Carol's Daughter (or that I'd even have daughters of my own one day), I would have stocked up on her products when I lived down the street from her first shop in Fort Greene. Hindsight is 20/20...and I guess it's better that way. If my single self had been able to forsee a life in the boondocks with three kids under six, with no black hair products or even black people for miles around, it would have completely freaked me out. I might not even be here right now.
Whew! That was close. But I still miss the amenities.