When I was younger I always said that I was going to grow old gracefully. Well, when I was in my twenties I meant I wasn’t going to dye my hair blue. Getting older is not for the weak!
For years I felt self-conscious at family gatherings because I was constantly being asked by my siblings if I dye my hair. Just because they were grey they felt I should be. And I wasn’t.
Then it happened. I finally got grey hair… a LOT of grey hair… like overnight grey hair. (Take that! I’m still the oldest and the last one to get it.)
Although the timing is still a little suspicious. I got up one morning and went into the bathroom and screamed. My hubby came running in to find out what was wrong. All I could do was yell at him, “You did this to me!”, as I point to the grey streaks on both sides of my head.
No one believed me when I told them I was starting to turn… because they couldn’t see it happening. Of course my siblings and my children finally got to see it over the holidays last year. My children were totally amused that it didn’t appear until AFTER my husband had been retired for one month. (See, it was his fault!) They were equally thankful that they could not be blamed for it. I believe they are still snickering today realizing that dad is the one who has to hear about it EVERY SINGLE DAY!
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