aruan | this probably means I owe him an apology

This morning, Brandon found a gray hair on my head. It was in the back, close to the crown, and I absolutely refused to believe him until seeing it personally. The thing is long, at least a year's worth of growth, and unmistakably gray. I stared at it for what must have been forever.

My father's hair was completely gray by the time he was in his late 20s. My mother didn't have a single gray hair until well into her 40s. So much for hoping I'd drawn the lucky card there - my brother probably got it, along with my family's only cute nose. Insult to injury, just a couple short months ago I was teasing Brandon about the gray hairs creeping into his beard, calling him old-man-this and Medicare-eligibility-that when I had the first gray hair all along, despite his being more than a year older.

Sorry for the drama, which I'm certain will seem ridiculous tomorrow, but right now I'm having flashbacks to my friend Marie and I trying to dye my hair blonde in high school and the obscenely orange color it turned out after two rounds of coloring. I realize this has no bearing on the real world of today, but I really, really didn't want to start thinking about dyeing again yet, especially not out of necessity.