I keep wanting to take down that naked-faced photo of me in the previous post. I'm not in love with all that gray in my hair, even though I know that ten years from now, this will seem such an unforgivable vanity. Vanity or no, I'm sitting here, saying good morning to you, while waiting for a box of color to work on said gray. I go back and forth, liking my gray edges sometimes, liking especially when they catch the light and look silvery, but at other times, they just make me feel gray.
My husband happens to be fond of my gray and would have me not color it, though he is never declarative about things pertaining to other people's personhood. He jokes, however, that he and our kids put every turned hair there, and that's why he loves them. I appreciate that he's cool with me as I am, but sometimes, I'm up for a little color play.