Grey Hairs

I have grown used to pointedly ignoring the grey hairs that seem to be creeping onto my head. I know they are there. They know they are there. My hairdresser knows they are there “maybe we’ll put a few extra blonde ones in this bit” she subtly says.

I refuse to acknowledge them directly; in case the next step is having a wash and set once a fortnight, buying a sholley and a plastic rainhood ‘just in case’, getting a copy of the Damart catalogue and one of those polyester house coats that buttons up the front.

So far it’s an arrangement that is working ok for all of us.
Or so I thought.
Today, while peering into a mirror this morning to apply my make up, (a magnifying one obviously as my close up eyesight is now shot to bits following years of spending far too many hours in the day doing magazine layout) I was horrified to note that one of them had migrated.
There was a grey hair in my eyebrow.
This is war!