beauty is in the eye of…
by Bella Rum
My hair has gone through a drastic transformation over the past few years. As my granddaughter said this weekend after H remarked favorably on a lovely, young redhead on television, “Nona used to have red hair, but there’s another color mixed in now.” I assured her that it will magically return to red before she sees me again.
But the color isn’t what bothers me most. It’s the texture, which I blame on the quality of the gray hair. And it’s limpy and wimpy and very, very skimpy. Dr. Seuss should have tackled this subject.
Something strange happens between my hair and my pillow while I’m sleeping. By the time I crawl out of bed in the morning, I look like I’ve been pulled backwards through the shrubberies. The top of my thinning hair is pushed forward and up, and the sides are sticking straight out. It’s frightening and gasp-worthy.
I’m on the hunt for some body-producing product. Maybe what they say is true, “It’s all about the product.” Or maybe it’s… Don’t drink and drive or you could end up in a mug shot for all the world to see your old-age, thinning hair doing its wild thing.