Time to dye

As most of my friends and family know, the color of my hair has been under much debate. After 31 years, and two kids, it has darkened so much that it’s a running joke (some say it’s “fact”) that I am a brunette now and no longer a blonde. So, when the conversation turned to hair color at the dinner table the other night, I was interested in what my 3-year-old daughter Avery might say. She started by noticing that she herself had yellow hair. Charlie, her baby brother, too. Then she said that daddy has brown hair. I was fully expecting her to say that I, too, had brown hair. But there was a glimmer of hope that she might think my hair was still “yellow.”

So, with anticipation I waited as daddy asked “What color hair does mommy have?” She slowly said, “Mommy has … gray hair!” I was so shocked I didn’t know what to do! I covered my face and laughed so hard I was crying. Okay, maybe I was sobbing so hard that I was laughing. I certainly did both.

So, I dyed my hair.

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