If You Don’t Color Your Hair
Natural shades, neon shades, neutral shades — there are so many color choices for hair these days. If, however, you decide to forgo the dye jobs, be prepared for the if…then consequences.

If you don’t choose chestnut roast
· Then be prepared for the looks of confusion.
“Deb! I’m so glad I ran into you! Let me introduce you to my mother.”
“Your, I’m sorry, your mother? I thought the two of you went to school together?”
“Ha! I’m not that old. Wait! Do you think I’m as old as she is, or is she as young as I am?”
“Uummm…oh, look, Charlie’s waving at me to hurry up. Bye!”
If you skip auburn sunrise
· Then know your friend will be asked if her “mother” would also like a pedicure.
“Her? Oh no, she’s not my mother, but that’s really funny.”
“Wait? Was she asking about me?”
“Yup.”
“You can stop laughing now.”
“Nope.”
“This really isn’t that funny.”
“What makes it even better is I’m 4 years older than you.”
“I know!”
“Best day ever!”
“You’re only speaking for yourself. It’s really truly not that funny.”
“Do you want me to assist you to your chair? You could break a hip.”
“Really?!”
If Goldie blonde is not your thing
· Then have a go-to response ready.
“Dude, How old was your mom when she had you?”
“I was a late bloomer. I had him at 52.”
or
“Is he my son? The Alzheimer’s muddles my brain.”
or
“Instead of social security, I got him.”

If you never wanted pink, blue, or purple hair
· Then you might be me.
Thanks to my grandfather’s genes, I started going gray at 22. College professors commented on my gray instead of answering questions I had regarding homework. I have experienced all of the above scenarios. Still, I don’t color my hair. As I approach 50, I am amused to be getting the “how old are you?” question much more often now. I roll with it. I am comfortable with my look and in my own skin. I am prepared with a bunch of witty retorts. No more speechless shock for this girl!