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Where's My Hair?
Suddenly it came to me and I realized why I have been unusually miserable of late. I had a haircut yesterday. I usually avoid looking at myself in the mirror. I know what I look like and found it easier to go through life without being constantly reminded. Its not something I obsess over, its just I prefer not to look at myself. I have even gotten shaving down to where, each morning, I can put on shaving creme and go through the whole rigmarole without actually looking at myself in the mirror. Anyway there I was, sitting in the hairdresser's chair, minding my own business, when I accidentally spied this chap in black sitting opposite me. And you know what, his hairline is definitely receding. Check it out.
(I discovered its very hard to take a close-up picture of your own head using a Kodak CrapCam, this is the best I could do). Now, I don't really mind losing my hair. I'm 48, and its had a good innings. My dad lost his hair in his twenties. The thing that has me terrified is that now I will have to turn into one of those North Tel-Aviv shaven head high tech clones. I will probably want to start driving a SUV. Life is sometimes cruel.
2 comments:
My hubby's forehead is getting "taller" too.
My two grandpas went pretty much all the way bald around 20 but so far, my brother, at age 30, is still hanging in there with a crazy headful of hair. That baldness DNA is hard to figure out.
Hey Sunshine
(Wow, I feel like a celebrity, Sunshine's blogs are pretty well read worldwide and definitely worth following).
It was thought that baldness was inherited from the Maternal Grandfather genes. But it seems that is a myth. My eyebrows are so bushy that I could probably use them for a comb over. One more joy of growing older.
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