I am so happy to being going to the hairdresser today! I know all of you ladies out there are always perfectly coiffed, but 'tis not always so for me! That "Only her hairdresser knows for sure," baloney never works for me because my hair grows so fast that it's always a struggle to keep up with those odd-colored roots that keep sprouting out of my head.
And, I know why it is that I do have so much trouble keeping the fact that I'm a gray-haired old lady under wraps.
When I was a teenager (imagine that, if you can), we lived across the street from a nursing home. There was an old lady who lived in the home with her little toothless Chihuahua, and she would walk him every day. Her name was Josephine. And Josephine, bless her heart, dyed her hair a deep, midnight black. Except. She probably didn't get to go to a hairdresser to have it done. Maybe a daughter or relative visited her and did it for her - I don't know.
But. What I do know is that I thought her head of white roots with the dark ends was ridiculously hilarious. And I laughed at her endlessly (not to her face - I wasn't that mean). And I told my mom that my hair would never look like that . . .
And so, that is why today I have endless white roots. Because in my misspent youth I had the audacity to laugh at someone else's hair, it has now come home to roost. I'm telling you children, listen to your elders; it could happen to you someday. So please, don't laugh at me when you see me wandering the streets with my little dogs on leashes and my long, white roots.
Hah! I bet you didn't think you were going to get a Por Quoi story and a morals lesson all in one post today, did you? Neither did I expect give them to you, but whew! it sure feels good to get that off my chest. And who knows, maybe confessing will give me a couple of weeks' respite from THE DREADED WHITE ROOTS!