Hm. You can totally see the hair on the above picture on my computer at home, but I can't see it here at work. Oh well. It's there. At first, I was hoping that maybe it was just a random blonde hair, but then I showed it to Ben, who has no filter. He started singing the song that is the title of this blog post. Such a sweetheart. :) Never go to Ben if you want to feel better about anything.
He said he wanted "to get a closer look," so he held the shaft of the hair, and I obligingly let the shaft go so he could examine it, and he pulled the freakin' hair right out of my head, along with the follicle. He's all, "Now you don't have any gray hairs!!!" It hurt like a mother. I'd rather have a full head of white hair than have anyone pull my hair out. It hurts. I once saw a preview for "My Strange Addiction" (on TLC, I think?) where this girl pulls her hair out of her head and eats her follicles. I just about vomited when I saw that preview. I obviously totally planned to skip that episode (I have to skip many of the episodes of that show...).
I have a low pain threshold. Which is why I am a fan of epidurals. Yes, yes, yes.
So after I yelled at Ben for pulling out my hair, I took a close-up picture of it for your viewing pleasure:
White. White, white, white. Sad.
I texted the sad news to my family and close friends. My dad texted back, "You get that from your mom. And her mom. And her grandma..."
I texted him back, "Along with restless legs syndrome. And an addiction to Coke."
Dad texted, "Special for you!"
I wrote back, "I won the genetic lottery!!!"
Pooh told me she's had to dye her hair for a few years now because of gray hairs. I asked her how long between the first gray hair and the first need to dye her hair. She said about a year.
Man. I'm getting old, old, old. I'm turning 34 on Saturday, friends. I cannot believe it.