With all the things I had to do in preparation for Bubby's visit, I had to let something slide, and my seriously graying hair that oh-so desperately needed color was unfortunately it.

Which meant I definitely had no choice but to color it during Bubby's visit.

Let me just say that I had forgotten how difficult it is to get much done on a household -- or personal -- level when there's a two-year-old in the house. Especially taking the time to color your hair.

Wait! I never colored my hair when my daughters were toddlers. So attempting the coloring -- with its specific time allotments in which any deviation from said time may have dire consequences -- while in charge of Bubby was a new lesson for this grandma.

I'm proud to say it was a lesson I aced pretty quickly! I just set up Bubby right outside the bathroom door with a pile of cars, truck and motorcycles. While he vroomed and zoomed and lined up the vehicles, I dibbed and dabbed and darkened my roots.

 I thought I was pretty darn bright for figuring out how to successfully occupy my grandson while I catered to my vanity.

Not so bright? Taking the time to snap these photos of Bubby during the coloring process. My far-too-dark tresses and the brown ring on my face around my hairline are irrefutable proof of that.

Oh well. At least Bubby can't revert to calling me Graya anymore.

At least not during this visit.

Today's question:

What's your most regrettable hair-color (or style) experience?