I have just had my hair cut by a little girl who sat next to my son at school. As any woman will tell you, the hairdresser’s can be a terrifying experience. I made the appointment over the phone and expected the mature lady with years of experience to be there BUT I GOT THE CHILD. It’s a mark of life’s lessons that she surprised me by doing a really good job and exhibiting much more maturity and good sense than my son of her age.
I come from a long line of red-heads: grandma and grandad, my parents, aunt, my sister and my youngest son all bear (or bore) the mark of Gilgamesh. Boudica, Genghis Khan, Lizzie Borden, Emily Dickinson, Salome, Nero – we are in some interesting company…
2 responses so far ↓
shussmallworld // June 16, 2008 at 2:37 am
My mother was beautifully auburned hair, and I SO wanted to be (and have the white skin for it) so starting at around 13 I started turning my hair that color myself. Over the years, I was many different shades, hues, tints, some more believable than others. It always amazed me that people that it was natural! I finally gave up in the last year or so and have embraced my inner (and outer) ’snow head’
I’d rather be a redhead.
Shu
petal47 // June 16, 2008 at 7:46 pm
My son used to curse his hair, but now at nineteen he appreciates his unusualness. I’d love to go naturally white, or silvery grey, but I suspect most of my head is sliding towards an indeterminate sludge colour. I would have my hair cut short, but the impeccable husband would not like it.