Punkifying my mother and sister

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I was big into Ki$$ back in those days, they seemed out of place in my small urban town and they flaunted it.

But my mother was oldschool, always wearing 50s esque dresses and having her hair piled atop her head in a beehive do.

My sister, Trudy, was no different; looking like the golden child in teal skirts and plumping her lips with gloss.

I looked mad in my wildman mane and leather… everything, I so wanted to show them the perks of the Ki$$ life.

Daddy had to go on a business trip and he endowed his building to us girls for the weekend.

It was quiet when the first day of his absence began so I started drawing up plans to punkify my breed.

After dinner, I introduced a little game to them.

”It’s called Polar Opposite, I get to dress you dolls in punk attire and you dress me in ‘preppy’ college girl clothes; simple”

Surprisingly, they agreed and prepped a chair for the transformation area.

I went first and Boo Boo Pam!

My mane was tamed into a bouffant style and my leather turned to a softer fabric.

Blush, gloss, and I was turned into a straight christian girl that you bring home to the folks.

At least no “permanent” changes were applied.

Now, my turn.

I chose mother as my target and sat her down, I removed her hairpins and brushed her front hair over her eyes, she had no idea what came next.

From under the tablecloth, I retrieved daddy’s clippers. Trudy tried to stop me but the tool came and went into mother’s blonde hair.

She did not react, she really didn’t flinch as I took my day out on her head, buzzing it practically bald.

All she did was hum sweetly slightly above the noise of the device.

When the back of her dome was basically shorn off, I took my father’s razor and whittled away at her front til long bangs formed.

I got my mother’s hair punked but I refrained from going further in the process, I was a bit credulous that she went this long without a peep.

”Trudy”,I called my sister with sadistic glee,”Your turn”

”It feels quite nice without so much hair clogging up my head”,my mother reviewed the work,”Just give it a try”

Not wanting her mother to be the only one with a freaked-up style in the family, Trudy sat defiantly in my chair.

”Do your worst”,she challenges me.

I intended to.

First, I side-parted her hair and took up my clippers, both sides of Trudy’s head became bald except for a tall Mohawk down the length of her scalp.

”Chip is not going to like this”,sighed my sister.

”He won’t like this either”

I aimed Trudy’s eyes at the ceiling and closed them, the lids fluttered as I took off her brows.

I taunted her with a mirror, she wasn’t exactly weeping but I knew she hated the final result.

Still, the wardrobe was yet to be completed, for her; I went with leather jacket and jeans.

Trudy was now a metalhead, I invited Chip over to view her new look which brought her closer to killing me.

But Chip, he just stared at Trudy with glitter in his eyes.

With no question, he smooched her lips which shocked us all.

Trudy used my makeover to bring herself to head cheerleader ( and yes, she kept the Mohawk but grew out her brows) and mother decided she didn’t want a domestic hairstyle so each week, in the chair she sits, to have most of her head shaved to my father’s chagrin.

But soon, daddy came around and said mother’s haircut was best thing she did for the family.

I soon lost interest in Ki$$ but kept my punk-sense of style and my punkified family.

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