Fighting

It's that time I HATE. I put it off as much as I can.

Going to the doctor for a mammogram? Having a tooth pulled? No, something I hate more (well, maybe not more than a mammogram!).

What is the dreaded thing I am having to face this morning? It's coloring my hair.

I know. Some of you are growing old gracefully. Me, I'm going down kicking and screaming!

My husband says he's doing the growing old gracefully bit. He's not going to shame me into doing the same. Men can do that because older men with gray hair look distinguished. Women with gray hair, well, they just look old.

There are exceptions. I have some women friends with the most beautiful gray hair. They look striking. Me? I would probably be in the just look old category.

Actually, I'm not sure what color my hair is. I've not seen the "original" in a long time. If the roots are any indication, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs comes to mind.

Once I told a friend I was thinking about letting my hair go natural. She said, "Don't. It will only make you look old. I took her advice.

I'll continue to try and hide my aging process by coloring my hair and only looking in mirrors from a distance. I'm even threatening after-life visitations to my family if they lay me in the casket with my white roots showing! :D.

So, I'm sitting here before my computer, my white towel with brown blotches all over it wrapped around my shoulders. Its purpose is to catch any errant solution that might want to color other areas of my body (only you at-home hair coloring ladies can really get the true picture here).

I expect to be transformed into a brown haired beauty. Okay, maybe I exaggerated on the last part of that sentence. Some things can only be changed with plastic surgery and I'm not sure that would even help!

The Bible says God knows the very number of hairs on my head. I'm going to see he is also the only one who knows the color of each of those hairs!

Going down slugging, Gloria