Raise your hand if you ever put Sun In in your hair?
I stopped dead in my tracks at the grocery store when I saw that bottle on the shelf.
Good ole’ Sun In. Those were the days.
The sunroof open on my white Fiero. Yellow, crispy hair that smelled like lemon. Crisco oil while sunbathing. Neon bracelets. Units. Purple Rain. Jesse’s Girl. Lipstick kisses on posters of Ralph Macchio.
I love you Sun In.
Thanks for the memories.