The other day at lunch, my friend looked at me and said, "Oh! You've got this one gray hair sticking straight up. Can I pull it out for you?" Oh yes, be my guest! I think gray hairs are the most resilient hairs on my head and have a mind of their own. They are the rebels of the group.
I don't have many grays, but I think if I get more, I will have the thickest head of unruly hair. Now that my hair is longer, I notice more strands of hair left in my hairbrush. No, I don't think I'm going bald. I just think now that it's longer, well, there's just more of it. But I haven't ever seen a gray hair that's come out of my head- unless I, or someone else, pulled it.
I don't pull them just because they are gray. I pull them because they are spastic. They are thick, curly, and go the opposite direction of all my other hairs. Like I said---rebels.
I made a little pact with myself. I'm not getting a haircut (okay, maybe a trim- but not a cut) or getting any hair color put on my head until the day I turn 40. The birthday plan is I'll have a day at the spa, then I'll get my hair cut, colored with some fabulous highlights, and styled. When people see me they're bound to say, "You look marvelous! What did you do?" And my reply will be simply, "Oh, I turned 40."
But until that day comes, I will live with my crazy gray hairs. There's only a few of them. True friends will pull them out for me whenever absolutely necessary.
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