“And the hair, think about that, too.” “Pink,” she blurted, a little surprised by herself, eyes round, before she tried to shrug it off, awkward with one arm casted and wrapped in crinkly plastic to keep it from getting wet. “If I did it, I’d want it to be pink.” I beamed at her. “Pink dye and coffee at ten-oh-five tomorrow morning, Glory. See you then.”
