The p.b. kid rocked out my hair this past weekend with an overall chocolate and then cherry red lowlights. I really like it plus I really liked the fact that it didn't cost me a dime because I'm cheap like that. It helps to have a hair stylist in the family and I figure since I birthed her 9 1/2 pound self, endured ankles the size of Wisconsin, gave up chocolate, alcohol and other food items that make life worth living, and nursed her for over a year that I'm entitled to free cuts and color. Is that wrong?