I experienced a bit of a shocking moment two days ago when I found what looked like a very blonde hair in the bathroom, it was too long to be LittleT’s and the wrong colour to have come out of Mr Tapas’ head so first reaction was: what has my husband been up to??? Followed by the really big shock because, on closer inspection, the hair wasn’t blonde at all the hair was white and I was white as a sheet when I realised that it was my hair, my white hair!
I know I have them, I try to ignore them, I don’t have time to go to the hairdressers and I haven’t found one I truly like in the area since I moved here anyway, I am rubbish at colouring my hair at home (tried it once at university, failed miserably) and have always loved the pampering that comes with going to the hairdresser, leisurely reading magazines and sipping coffee while my tresses are being revived by a professional’s hands…
All of that stopped being fun the day it went from a choice (change of hair colour just for fun) to a necessity (covering greys) .
After this shock it may be time to book an appointment and, let's be honest, I could do with a haircut too!