Jessica and I were sitting somewhere a few days back. I don’t exactly remember, so let’s just say a restaurant. All of a sudden she exclaimed, “Holy shit! This is amazing!”
She was staring at the side of my head and giggling. Then she reached over (without asking) and started digging around the hair just above my ear. Since I have written about how I love pulling out her white head hairs, I assumed she just found my first white hair. Like a neurosurgeon she delicately and masterfully maneuvered her fingers in position for about thirty seconds before pulling. Well, not like a surgeon at all. She wasn’t going inside my head, wearing scrubs, or had even washed her hands before touching me.
She yanked, and I was nervous. To see a white head hair was going to be painful. I know it’s sounds like I’m vain, but I’m really not. But I am blonde. I sort of have that thing, and it’s not something I want to go away. Okay, I guess I am vain. It’s like a girl with Ds realizing they’re starting to sag. It’s a depressing moment.
But what she pulled out was not white. It was black. Midnight black, more accurately. (not sure if that’s a real color, just thought it sounded cool)
I was super excited. I had no idea my head had the ability to produce a black hair. It was really long, longer than the other hairs, like it had mutated because of it’s color and grown faster than normal. Jessica placed it in my hand and I couldn’t look away. I made her promise to dig around and see if I had any others. She couldn’t find any.
She got excited, however, and started pulling on another one. This one came out stark white.
My fear was realized. I officially had a white hair on my head. Also, a black one. I held the black and the white one in my palm and marveled at the juxtaposition. Here were two hairs I had never seen growing from my skull. Both were fascinating, but had different properties. One was the absence of color, one contained all the colors. Either way, these were two non-blondes.
Now, I’m sure I have others, and I am about ready to turn 36. I’m not going to be blonde forever.
But I do have someone who gets as excited as me to see my physical changes. I wonder what change will happen next – hopefully some extra fat will just start melting away every time I hang out at the beach. That works, I’m pretty sure. Read it in Marie Claire.