Monday, June 14, 2010


It's a good, good man who will don the plastic gloves, mix the noxious chemicals, and comb comb comb the dye through his wife's ridiculously thick hair.

It's an even better man who knows where the random chunk of thickness known to my hairdresser as the Bermuda Triangle of hair.

And it's the best man ever who lets me call him Raoul while he does all of this.

He's such a good sport.

Washed that gray right outta my hair.