So the other day I was driving down the street, and like every girl I had to take a moment to check myself out in the rear-view mirror. My bathroom doesn’t have the best lighting, its kind of dim in there, so you know I always have to do an outside check to make sure I haven’t gone over-board on the face painting. At first I was quite pleased with myself. I was having one of those perfect-mascara moments that any eyelash loving kind of girl will totally relate to.
Even my hair seemed unusually cooperative. Then it happened, I spotted something that should not be on my head! My internal dialogue went something like this:
“Omg, is that a gray hair? No, it can’t be. Just look at the road. Concentrate on the road. Dang, I know it’s going to happen, but man.” (Insert pouty faces here.) Then I hit a red light, and I glanced up again. “It is a gray hair. Ok, I can deal with this, I mean, I am 36 and let’s be honest, it’s been a rocky road, if I have gray hair I deserve them!”
I spent the next 10 minutes convincing myself that these gray hairs would be badges of honor. I mean I am raising 7 kids! Seven!! Two of them are TEENAGERS! And I have a zoo. Really, the four dogs think they are children too. Just the number of times I have to say “get off the couch” could give the average person a few grays. My lab is getting so old that everything scares her and she follows me around the house all day, forever sleeping at my feet, wherever they may be (including the bathroom). The cat thinks she needs to sleep on top of me in the middle of the night, despite the fact that I am allergic. The fish expect to be fed. The bird has tried to eat the turtles. My to-do list is detailed enough to rival some the world’s longest novels. I never even get to the end of it. I’ve never even hit page 2! That surely earns me a few grays. Oh, and CPS. CPS is the nightmare of all nightmares. We are finally close to closing our adoption, and I cannot wait to be done forever with CPS. Every time a kid sneezes I have a form to fill out, and then heaven forbid one of them actually skin a knee, that prompts surprise inspections like you would not believe! I think I am four months behind on the monthly logs I am supposed to keep, detailing when the kids were fed and when they got to play outside and when I gave them a Tylenol, and who they visited and what movie they’ve seen and when they got their last pair of new shoes… It’s no wonder I don’t look something more like this:
“Wait a minute, I’m not ready to give up and just go all gray!” I told myself and then I decided I would dye them. “Your thirties are supposed to be the good years, I can hold off the grays for a little while longer, right?!” Then I remembered that every box of hair dye I have ever purchased has mentioned the word “stubborn” when referring to gray hair. Time for Plan B.
“I’ll just pull it out.” Wait, what’s that they say? Is it “pluck one and 10 come in”, should I chance it?
Hmmmmm…… I mulled it over for the next 3 miles, finally convincing myself that there aren’t little people living in my scalp, just waiting to tell on me for pulling it out! No one would know, especially if I pulled it out in the car on my morning errands before anyone has noticed it, so there couldn’t be 10 more waiting to jump in!
Finally, I decided, I would take my chances. I’d just pull it out, and if 10 came in its place, I’d know to NEVER do that again. So I get to the next stop, and I reach up to pull it out of my head, and guess what?
It wasn’t even MY hair!
It was hers….
Not sure how that happened, but all I can say is Wheeewwww, Crisis AVERTED! At least for now….