So, you may be wondering, how is it that I have kept this head of long, fabulous hair even as I approach middle age.
My secret it to get it cut once a year, whenever the gift certificate fairy gives me the cash to go to my favorite salon. So for a month I have a style, and then it becomes one giant mass of follicles.
But two weeks ago I discovered the first sign of impending doom. Amongst the six inches of grow-out I have, I saw a light glint. Could it be???? Why yes, it was.....it was a grey hair.
I was told to go get Ms.Clairol and let her handle it for me, but not for one hair. Now I have two. I could pull them, but that hurts, and they'll just grow back.
Today, I thought of a solution, so simplistic in it's planning that it was sure to be foolproof. I found the brown Crayola marker, walked assuredly to the bathroom, locked the door and fixed my harbinger of menopause.
Unfortunately, Crayola markers are washable, and soon I was staring at the steel grey strands that mocked me.
Upon telling Super G of my project today, he stared for a moment, then ate a piece of cheese, clearly unimpressed with my resourcefulness. He would never understand, having been born with the perfect head, he eschewed the need for hair some time ago, so he just does not understand the travails from those of us less perfect than him.
Tomorrow, AFTER my shower, I'm gettin' out the Sharpie .
My mother will be horrified, sounds like this is a great idea :-)