I don't really want to. Having grey hair really doesn't bother me. Besides, it's such a messy bother to dye your hair at home, and so expensive to do in a beauty salon, but I have been pushed beyond what any reasonable person can be expected to bear.
It's the young people. I blame them. The arrogance of them! I see it in their eyes - they have relegated me to little old lady status. Quite without my permission.
I see it in their outstretched arms, as I clamber over the snowbanks on the sides of the road after last night's storm. The roads - thank goodness and city services - are pretty much clear, but it will be a matter of days before the high ridges lining the roads are carted away to their final resting place.
In the meanwhile, pedestrians and bus riders must perforce be mountain climbers. And all these well-raised young people extend their arms to me, concerned about the poor old bones beneath the hoary head. This, despite the fact that my face is unlined and my bones are entirely up to the challenge of snowbank clambering. So I smile, protest vainly, and take the proffered arms. You have to reward that kind of consideration, no matter how galling.
I have to dye my hair, before I snap at the next solicitous youngster who offers me her seat. What happened to all the churlish young louts I keep hearing about? One can only dream...
Technorati tags: Hair dye, Today's youth, Grumbling
Women in SF&F Month: Fran Wilde - Today I’m delighted to welcome fantasy and science fiction author Fran Wilde! Her debut novel, Updraft, won the Andre Norton Award, received the Compton Cr...
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