That’s right. There it is. In all it’s wiry, white, “look at me ruining your youth” glory. The first sign that I am well on my way to old lady-dom. Look at it. The smug bastard.

Last night while having dinner with my grandpa, aunts and cousins, my aunt said, “I didn’t want to say this, but I saw a white hair on you earlier.”
“NO! It must’ve been my cousin’s! She was pulling hers out. It must’ve landed on me.” I wish I was kidding. I wish I’d sounded less, I don’t know, neurotic and denial-ridden.
“Yeah…maybe that was it. Let me look.” No more than 10-15 seconds later did I hear, “HERE IT IS!” and that thing up there was thrust in my face.

I think I spent the following 7 minutes acting like spoiled, vain brat, hollering something along the lines of, “NO! NO! I’m only 27! This isn’t possible!” I’m pretty sure I whacked my husband a couple of times between trips back and forth to the hall mirror, while proclaiming that it was all his fault.

And then my aunt said, “Well, I didn’t want to freak you out…but there are two.”
To which I screeched incomprehensibly responded, “OH, SHUT UP!”

Tumbling ass-out, head over heels into aging gracefully.