When I grow up I want to be a sweet little old lady that works in the temple. I want to be a docent at the Desert Museum. And maybe every so often I’ll be the crotchety old lady that sits on the porch and throws rocks at small children. And I really hope that when my hair goes gray it’s shiny. I want a white, silvery grey and not a yellow grey.
That last one might be a lot closer than the others.
In May (I remember because it was right about the time I was proposing my dissertation, and I don’t think the timing was coincidence) I was brushing out my hair and I saw a few strands that were a lot shinier than the rest of my hair. But I didn’t isolate them so I couldn’t be 100% positive.
A week ago I was brushing my hair again and this time it was unmistakable. I definitely had two grey hairs. I proudly showed them to Brett. And I left them where they were. I’m not afraid of getting old.
Yesterday I found another one. They are shiny and more white than yellow. I think I might actually get my wish of a lovely head of shiny grey hair. And I’m excited.