i came, i saw, my hair conquered

Hello.Yesterday I decided to brave the elements of my Grandma Margie's wrath and attend the family Sunday get together. I figured I was mostly safe since the hair dye has rinsed out to a vaguely normal reddish/brownish hue. I also memorized my intended line of defense "It will wash out soon, Grandma, It will wash out soon." This line was a risky one though, because my Grandma has a beauty parlor in her basement, and would not be above dragging me down their to "wash it out" herself. Thus, I developed a second line of defense. You see, my boss, Jean, loves my hair. The same boss who I thought would refuse to schedule me until I looked normal has turned into my numero uno advocate. My boss and my Grandma are also friends, and my Grandma, out of courtesy, tends to agree with whatever Jean says. Because Jean provides her with limitless supplies of Chinese food. I come from a family of addicts and enablers. I would go into withdrawals without my rainbow selection of hair dye, and my Grandma would die without her shrimp tempura. So last night, just as my Grandma was settling in for a long round of hair criticism, I casually mentioned that Jean thought it looked pretty.And behold, the Red Sea parted, and I was delivered. Suddenly, like manna from heaven the compliments came pouring in. My hair makes my skin look more "porcelin" (um, creepy much?) It does wonders for my coloring. It's the hair color I knew in the pre-existence. I'm sure the fact that I told her that Jean was waiting for her to come in and try the Lunch Special had nothing to do with it. My Grandpa is not so easily deterred. He kept mentioning that he liked my natural hair color. I eventually had to break him the hard news- I don't remember my natural hair color. My husband of seven and a half months has never even seen my natural hair color. It just isn't going to happen, er, um, I mean, it will wash out soon, Grandma, it will wash out soon.