Mr. Demonic’s “Blond” Hair

Hopefully, this will be a short post, but you never know. Sometimes, just as I do when I get together with good friends, I run on and on. When I chat so long that my butt gets a cramp, you know I’m having a good time.

Today, I would like to mention my other half, Mr. Demonic.

I met Mr. D at our place of employment, almost 25 years ago. I think I mentioned that in a previous blog post, but I’m way too lazy (and busy) today to look it up. (I’ve been on WP for almost a year, and my posts are many – almost unmanageable.) The first thing that struck me about my husband was that he was very good looking. No, really. He is extremely handsome. I imagined at the time that he was too handsome for me to catch, however, at the time I didn’t realize that he thought I was very good looking, too. Many people (my husband and my internet boyfriend among them) think I suffer from poor body image. I like to think I’m realistic.

Either way, I caught him, and I’m not throwing him back.

But back to Mr. D. He used to have a magnificent head of hair, dark brown, very thick, not wavy, but it would go where he told it to. Contrast that with my locks, thin, straight, and it’s unruly, much like my teenage daughter. It doesn’t matter how much “product” I put in mine, in thirty minutes time, it ends up straight. I used to go the permanent wave route. That was the only way I could obtain some semblance of body. I’m way too lazy (and cheap) these days to subject myself to routine chemical treatments to make my hair bouncy. Mr. D buys one small bottle of hair goo, and it lasts six months. He just puts a little in every morning, and still looks like a hunk by bed time.

Over time, though, Mr. D’s hair has changed. He’s aging. We all are. Mr. D’s head started sporting gray hairs at the tender age of 33. Ms. MiniD wasn’t even born yet. My father, who is 24 years older than the two of us, remarked at the time that Mr. D should go to the drug store and by some hair coloring for men. Grecian Formula. My father, who is now 76, didn’t have much gray then and still has very little gray hair.

Perhaps it is the stress of owning your own business that has contributed to Mr. D’s gray hair. It is something to ponder. His PhD college professor brother is six years older, and while the top of his head is thinning, he doesn’t really sport a lot of gray hair. Of course, he has a cushy job where he only teaches two days a week and has tenure and a retirement plan. Mr. D works seven days a week. Mr. D’s sister, who was a year older, was a blond Scandinavian with a full head of hair (well, until chemotherapy, that is) until she passed away last year.

Mr. D’s father ended up a bald guy. Since Mr. D favors his father in many ways, height, body style, they way they carry themselves, etc., I am most certain that in ten years or so, Mr. D will end up a bald man too. That’s quite all right with me.

However, aging and turning gray has not set well with my husband. For the last several years, Mr. D has proclaimed that his hair is turning “blond.” He is claiming that since his sister was a natural blond, the blond gene was surely going to rear its ugly head and claim him as a victim. It would only be a matter of time. So this is his theory.

At present time, Mr. D’s temples are beyond gray. They are decidedly silver. The rest of his head is more salt than pepper.

(Now, I should interject here that I used to color my own hair on a regular basis. It was not to cover gray hair, but was back when I liked being a red-head. However, I am part Asian, and no one has manufactured a hair dye that can change my hair to Lucille Ball’s shade of red. Or a certain Tigereye I know. I have since stopped coloring, and even though I am nine months older than Mr. D, have only a few strands of gray. It must make him very angry.)

The other day, Mr. D got his haircut, came into work and announced that his barber managed to cut all of his gray hair out and so now he is blond. Of course, this results in rolled eyes and stifled laughter among the office staff.

I imagine he will stop talking about being blond when he is completely bald.

8 Responses

  1. When I got a haircut as a young man, the floor was jet black.

    Later, in middle age, it looked like they had trimmed a skunk.

    Now it looks like I have dandruff.

    Dr. B

  2. LOL!

    My brother, the gearhead, calls it crome.

  3. Oh! Chrome! That’s so classy! 🙂

  4. I’m blonde and my hair lightens significantly in the sun – which never used to be much of a problem in merry England since the sun only shines about 3 times a year… However, Sydney is a different kettle of fish.

    So much so that at the end of an Australian summer my hair is almost white, especially at the ends. I went to the hairdresser last month and said “please make me less blonde”. She said she had never heard that before, but she did it.

    Nonetheless I am grateful that blonde doesn’t show the gray 🙂

  5. I had a significant percentage of my hair turn gray by the time I finished my Bachelor’s degree! Now, if I don’t color it every three or four weeks, I look much, much older than my 52 years and I’m not ready for that yet so I snatch the hair dye when it goes on sale so I can color it at least once a month. I was recently too busy to do it while I was packing and moving and I ended up going without color for over two months. I looked about 60. When I finally colored it, my daughter saw it and smiled broadly, saying that I was “young” again!

  6. (snicker) I can’t believe I stopped by the right post to see a shout-out! 🙂

    John and I started dating when he was in his early 30s and he was already going salt-and-pepper at the temples and the beard. I thought it was hot. It was actually part of the attraction, although I’ve never convinced him of this.

    I have one gray hair that shows up periodically at my left temple. I’m going to start calling it blonde…

  7. I have a new post on Mr. D’s hair, but I have to take a photo first before I can post it. Damn.

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