I'm officially getting old. There, I have spoken it.
I went to my hair stylist this morning, who has been doing my hair for over 17 years. She and I have quite the friendship...however, it took quite the turn this morning. She is in the middle of foiling my hair and the conversation goes something like this:
"Oh look at this, a gray hair!" -Phoebe
"A WHAT!?" - Me
"Your first gray hair"
"Here, let me cut it off so you can see it."
"Do you have to? I'd rather be in denial."
"Here, feel it. It feels different than regular hair."
"That is real nice. Thanks for making my day."
ARGH! I'm not taking this well. First the eye doctor last fall mentions that I'll be needing bifocals soon and now this. What is next, a hip replacement?
Well very shortly my special young girl will be spending a bit of her weekend with us. Her mother is a bit under the weather and needs some recovery time. At least that will cheer me up!