I have a problem with hair. I don’t have much or in fact any to write home about.
It’s another curse of aging. Not only do things stop working other things start to fall out. Its genetic I know; my dad went to same way. But I have brothers who have much more than me.
There are advantages I have discovered. I have my head shaved, and I don’t have to worry about combing it of a morning, that saves time. A haircut, if you call it that, is quick and easy for my haircutter (my daughter).
The down side is as it grows this growth of silver grey spreads across my head and of course it won’t lie down, it wants to stick up on the top of my head as if to say, ‘Look at me, Look at me!!’
As time has gone on I have stopped worrying about it, I suffer the jokes of my children reminding them that genetics can appear in generations down the track as I look at my many grandsons, each with full and thick heads of hair.
I smile every time I see an add on TV for those clinics who say they can regrow your hair. If that was the case, I’d have to comb or brush it and I’m used to not doing so now.
I think the older you get the less vanity plays in your life. You know you aren’t going to look like Mr Universe, if ever you did, you know the decline is part of living so you say bugger it all I’m going to enjoy life as best I can and if you don’t like it then ‘take it or d’!!