I knew this was happening since I was about 27. It really is inevitable. The only difference is that she went pink and I've gone purple.
I remember coming home from school one day, can't remember how old I was at the time, and as I chatted away with my mother I realized her hair was pink. Really pink. She hadn't mentioned it and I think she was sort of hoping that I wouldn't notice.
We spent most of that afternoon washing and rewashing her hair. Finally, she looked great with a sort of rose colour that matched the colour of her favourite lip stick. She carried it well for a couple of weeks until the dye finally rinsed out completely.
You see, since the time my mom was 16, she has had a battle with grey hair and through the years she's tried all colours and combinations. One of my personal favourites, forever preserved in one of our family photos, was went she went blonde. There we are, me and my sisters, dark haired and smiling, sitting next to Daddio with his thick black hair, arm around his platinum blonde wife.
I knew that this grey haired battle would be genetic and I've tried not to worry about too much. I've had the occasional red or dark brown, but nothing too drastic and nothing too shocking. In the last couple of years with all of life running around me, I haven't had time to really worry about the state of my greys. Then, this morning as I drove into town, I caught a glimpse of my frizzy grey mess sprouting from my head.
What's a woman to do?
Let me tell you who's laughing now. It's me. The crazy American lady in the village who now has purple hair. Why wait till I'm really old, right?
I guess I'll leave it like this for now and see what kind of reaction I get out of The Princess and Mini-Husband this afternoon. It's a nice deep shade and though it doesn't match any lipstick I've ever owned, it does sort of resemble the colour of my favourite Bordeaux.
I understand now how much I really am like my mother. Aren't we beautiful?