"At least I won't have to worry about people thinking I look like some oversized pom- pom," Jennifer thought as she threw on some shoes and left her room. She didn't bother putting on any other clothing because the practical purposes of covering privates and keeping her warm were already well taken care of. As she descended the stairs, her mother called from the kitchen.
"Jennifer, dear, dinner's ready!"
"Sorry Mom," she replied as she reached the bottom and grabbed her car keys off the hook. "Claire needs me to help study for a test right away."
"Well, then you should take some of these appetizers I made over for the both of you," she came out of the kitchen with a plastic bag and a plate full of fresh breadsticks and cut vegetables. She stopped suddenly when she saw Jennifer standing at the door, covered head-to-toe in wool that was over two feet and dragging along the floor.
"Oh, Jennifer," she said shocked.
"Yeah, I know. I can explain--"
"Your golden wool is finally growing in!" She put the plate and bag down on the stair and tugged the wool under her ear, examining it.
"This is great! Dr. Tisdale said it would happen sometime during late puberty, and it finally has!" She gave Jennifer a hearty kiss on the cheek. "You girls have a great time!" She dumped all of the plate's contents into the bag, not seeming to care if the carrot sticks were getting the bread a little wet.
"Uh, yeah. We will," Jennifer took the bag from an all-too-happy mother. "Thanks." She opened the door and quickly headed out.
Though she hadn't actually driven it yet, Jennifer had seen her car after they had gotten back from the farm. It was a crimson red convertible with plush pink seat covers and a small sheep bean-bag doll on the dashboard. The license plate read, simply, "BAAAAAA." Jennifer wondered if that was the curse's idea of a joke. She got in and shut the door, then opened it once she realized she had shut a good portion of her own wool in it. Once she had gotten completely situated, she took off.
* * *
Okay, maybe I should have put the top up. Jennifer was about halfway to Claire's house when the wind really started to mess with her wool. Not only was the wool on her head in her face, the wool on her arms was long enough to occasionally blow up high and block her vision as well. She searched frantically for the roof control on the dash, not bothering to slow down or pull off the road. I can't stop for anything. I can't let this wool grow any damn longer! Claire is SO getting cursed again!