Sitting at a stoplight with my two sons in the backseat, I decided to pluck an unruly and oh so unattractive gray hair that was protruding from my scalp. They've been peeking through my blonde strands on occasion, as much as I hate to admit it. Forget dying them, I just yank em out and call it a day, figuring it was my little secret. Until my 8-year-old mumbled this from the backseat...'You pulling out your Granny hairs, Mom?'Yes, son. Yes I am.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
so maybe I do mind getting older
Sitting at a stoplight with my two sons in the backseat, I decided to pluck an unruly and oh so unattractive gray hair that was protruding from my scalp. They've been peeking through my blonde strands on occasion, as much as I hate to admit it. Forget dying them, I just yank em out and call it a day, figuring it was my little secret. Until my 8-year-old mumbled this from the backseat...'You pulling out your Granny hairs, Mom?'Yes, son. Yes I am.
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