In a panic, I called out to C to come here right now, as I pretty much smashed my face to the mirror, picking through the atrocities. 'What's wrong?' I hear from the bed. What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG????? I go running into the bedroom, grab the bedside lamp, shove it to my head, and say, 'THIS is what's wrong.'
'I don't see anything.'
'HOW can you NOT SEE ANYTHING?? THEY ARE EVERYWHERE!!!'
He gets a little closer. 'What are everywhere?'
'THE GRAY HAIRS!'
'No way. You don't have gray hairs. Let's go into the bathroom with better lighting, because I don't believe you.' (You mean, the bathroom I tried to get you to come into when I was first panicking? THAT bathroom? Urgh.)
Realizing at this point that tears are starting to form, he tries his best to console me. 'Well, I don't think they are gray hairs. Maybe they are more like a dirty blonde.' He picks one up to inspect it. 'Oh, no, that's definitely gray....' Thanks. I'll just go lock myself in the closet now....
So I proceed to stand in the mirror and start picking out the gray hairs, with C heading back to bed saying, 'I have gray hairs. There's nothing wrong with it,' but all I'm hearing is 'Blah blah blah, you're old.' Then the light bulb comes on and I go running out into the living room where Z is playing on her computer and watching TV.
'Z, they are EVERYWHERE!!! Please come help me....' She gets up, heads into the kitchen with me, where there's better lighting (damn the normal lighting in this house for not having me see this sooner). I point to the top of my head, and all I see is her eyes get big, she bite her lip, and a very soft 'Oh sweet niblets' escapes her mouth. 'PULL THEM OUT!!!!!' I yell. She tries to grab a hold of one, doesn't work. Her face lights up, 'Tweezers. I'm going to get my tweezers,' and she runs off to her bedroom. Oh dear gracious me, when does this end??
One by one she goes at these gray hairs, with me counting; 6....7....8... blasted all, really? REALLY? I decide to make a game of it and name them as she pulls them out. 'This one is that Jeep hood off of a towed Jeep that fell off as the tow truck was going 85 miles an hour down the interstate, and we were right behind it when it fell off and thought we were going to die. Ahh, what a great gray hair moment (not!).' 'This one is that time I got called by the daycare because my son was throwing chairs and chocolate milk at the teachers, and was now hiding under a table and wouldn't come out. Remember that one, Z?' 'These 3 have a name, but it's of a person we no longer speak of (yeah, kinda like Voldemort- maybe that's what we'll just start referring to them as, Voldey...). Pull those out with a vengeance, Z, and then we'll put those down the garbage disposal.'
Finally, she reaches a stopping point, tells me to shake my head for a second, then bring my head down for her to look at it again. I follow directions, and I see her mouth drop open, her hands immediately go up to try and hide the fact that her mouth just dropped open, her eyes get huge, and this time I get a not-so-soft, 'Oh sweet baby, there's like a patch of like 5 or 6 of them right in front.' I had already been standing there in agony for 10 minutes. Just make it go away, make it all go away, but I was torn between standing there forever and going to bed. 'Just get any really noticeable ones, forget the patch, and we'll call it a night, Z. Thanks for your help.' She grabs one or 2 more, and I'm off to sleep with a hug from her.
I've had gray hairs before, don't get me wrong. Like 1 here, 2 there, especially when I was working 60+ hours a week and never sleeping. I also used to get my hair dyed about every 6 weeks with new blonde highlights, or stop sign red, or a little black underneath, whatever tickled my fancy at the time. Hell, I've been dying my hair since I was 15 in fact, so I didn't even know that my natural hair color was this mousy brown... and gray, apparently. I haven't had my hair dyed since we moved, so it's been about 4 or 5 months now. My mousy brown roots are majorly showing, and this is really the first chance I've had in 14 years of even seeing how gray I am, and let me tell you, it came as a shock. No good, I say, no good.
So, my next course of action is definitely getting my hair dyed. It'll probably have to be one of those at-home jobs, since money is so tight, but it'll get me through the holidays, at least. And my trusty Jack Skellington skull cap. People look at me strange wearing a skull cap when it's 80 degrees outside here in Arizona, but if they knew the monstrosity that was hiding underneath, they'd thank me.
Getting older sucks. Majorly....