Violet
Something I’ll miss when I move out is getting my mum to dye my hair for me. On my first attempt, I clumsily coated my ears and neck in violet-red and she’s since insisted on being present whenever I colour it.
In a nice little ritual, I sit on the edge of the bathtub and she busies herself with a bottle and comb, often commenting in not-quite-disapproval, ‘You know, I do like the natural colour of your hair’.
Not that I mind, it’s more of a love-you-the-way-you-are sentiment than a critique, and it’s nice to have a mother who cares that your hair is purple.