I went for a swim at the YMCA today, and while I was fixing my hair afterward, I spied an unusually glossy hair.
Upon closer examination, I discovered the hair wasn’t just unusually glossy. Nope. It was grey, or to be actually accurate, it was a pretty, shiny, silvery color.
I have a grey hair.
Now, while many people view going grey as a calamity, I’ve actually been looking forward to it a little bit. Of my family members who have gone grey, at least one of them ended up with much, much prettier hair after it had gone grey than they’d had before. Everyone else in my family looks just as good grey, or maybe slightly better.
So the way I figure it, I have chance of looking either A. pretty much the same or B. much, much better.
I forget that most people don’t feel that way, so I was a little surprised when my coworkers asked me if I’d plucked it.
"Of course not," I said. "It’s shiny."
Both of them looked at me and grinned.
"You’re your own shiny thing now!"