The Coronavirus has put a real kink in my beauty routine, and like many women across this great land of ours- my roots were showing. My hair stylist/spirit animal, Candie Lang, came to my rescue with a bag of necessities to put my hair right.

Not only is not getting my hair done by Candie affecting my self confidence, but she also acts as a counselor every two weeks. It's not all about the hair color, it's having someone shampoo my hair and ask sweetly if it's too hot or too cold. It's having an old fashioned ki-ki where we talk about family, boys and beauty products. Candie knows things about me, ok? She brings me a fizzy flavored water that I only drink at her house, and that one little gesture makes me feel a little bit pampered.

Plus I love her toothless chihuahua, Toasty. Seriously, could you not love her?

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So back to my hair...when it grows out my daughters call the white line of my roots my "racing stripe". Humiliating. So I did the unthinkable and picked up a box of color from the pharmacy by my house. Candie was NOT happy and told me not to touch that box, she would drop off what I need.

This is the picture that put her over the edge.

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Did you know that they still sell Sun-In? Yikes, that should be illegal. Yes, I send my hair stylist pictures from CVS.

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Anyhoo...

My girl did me a solid with an at-home delivery. While practicing proper social distancing, she mixed my color for me at my kitchen counter and explained to my 14-year-old daughter how to apply it to my racing stripe.

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I was so happy to have a brief visit with Candie, and her kindness meant so much so me. Don't tell her husband, but she didn't charge me. So I did the only thing that I could do, I hooked her up with disinfecting wipes and Guiness.

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Thank you, Candie, for a little bit of normal and for making me feel cared for. You are my sunshine :)

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