“Well, I think a tradition we have in our family is to color our hair,” said my youngest son at our latest family meeting. The kids started to giggle and I don’t think I helped matters any when my jaw dropped open. Luckily, my son (J.J.) giggled, too.
“What do you mean that we color our hair?” I said, innocently, blushingly even, but well knowing that yes, I do put highlights in my hair—just a little.
“Well, like in the summer. Our hair gets lighter and now Dad had some white hairs (to which my husband’s jaw dropped amid more laughter) and so I think that’s something that is a tradition in our family,” he explained.
“Well, that is something that does happen to our family’s hair, that’s true,” I said.
My oldest son (Jay) interrupted, “Mom, just don’t even speak. You sound like Marge Simpson.”
“I sound like Marge Simpson?” I said. “Like from “The Simpsons” TV show?” More laughter.
“Yes, I’ve been thinking that all day and I’ve been waiting to say it,” he said.
“Definitely Marge Simpson,” said my second son (C.K.). All I can do is smile and laugh at myself, too.
Our meetings were first sidetracked by the Thanksgiving holiday and then by two of my kids getting sick with this coughing/fever thing (let’s face it—it’s either a coughing/fever thing OR the throw-up/diarrhea thing: both “old hat” by now around our house and not worth mentioning, though I prefer the coughing/fever thing to the latter…anyhow…). The sidetrack is not only did I get the coughing/fever thing, but it turned into pneumonia. I’ve never had pneumonia and as the old southern saying goes, “when mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy”.