"I want to show you pictures of some haircuts," my mother says nonchalantly Monday.
My father, my youngest brother, and I are sitting in the living room watching football when she announces this randomly. My mother, whipping out her brand new Kindle Fire (she's more protective of it than her own children some days, I swear), brings up pictures of two people. One is George Clooney. The other is Prince William.
"Both of them have your...problem," she says as subtly as she can.
"You mean going bald?" My youngest brother says with laughter. I shoot him the "You're dead" look but he doesn't see it. He's too busy with his head buried in the couch arm, laughing. My father (who resembles a zombie when football is on...a zombie with great coordination because he can dig into a bag of chips, drink his sweet tea, and shift position in his giant chair at the same time) manages to tear himself away from the TV long enough to chuckle, offer a grin in my direction, and slap my brother on the back of the head gently.
I'm not exactly left with much more to say other than, "Okay, and?"
I suppose all those Coke Zero "And?" commercials brainwashed me into thinking there was some sort of prize waiting on the other end of my question.
Instead I got, "Which one do you like better? I like Prince William's," my mother says while making eyes for the prince.
Cue me rolling my eyes but agreeing with her.
Prince William will now be the inspiration for my haircut Wednesday. You see, I'm going bald. It's genetics at work. My mother's father went bald early, she got the gene, and I have it. The kicker? I have two younger brothers and neither of them have the problem. They'll be fine.
Me? I use Rogaine.
That's right, I'm 23 and use Rogaine. Go ahead and laugh, I would too...let's face it, if it's not funny, it's surely sad. And guess what? The Rogaine takes a minimum of two months to start working and even when it does, it'll only look like peachfuzz in the bald area initially.
Shoot. Me. Now.
Look, I know it has to be done. I've been told it had to be done for years. Like my weight issue, I ignored it, and like my weight issue, I finally got around to dealing with it. All this is fact but it still doesn't make me feel much better about it.
I remember all the Rogaine jokes from my high school years. I made and invented a lot of great ones.
Now all that is coming back to me with a vengeance. Karma at work I guess.
But now the embarrassment is two-fold. Not only do I have to use Rogaine, now I have to get Prince William's haircut to help hide it. ::facepalm::
I'm 23 and I have a hairline of a 40ish/50ish man.
And the fact is all those Rogaine, hair product commercials...they're just so bad. So purposefully bad it seems. You know, it really seems that the people who make those commercials want you to know that if you're going bald, you have no chance with a Chia pet, let alone a woman.
What good does it do to take shots at the self-confidence of potential customers? Well, it shames them into buying your product for one. That's what it did to me. I managed to convince myself for years I was all right. A little creative work with the comb and my developing bald spot was hidden decently enough.
But the mirror doesn't lie. For years I used it to justify my ballooning body too. I had to accept the truth on that and now I'm accepting the truth about my developing baldness as well. If I don't do something, I will be bald at some point in the coming years.
It's just insult to injury to have to get a haircut now to cover up said developing bald spot...and to have that haircut modeled after Prince William. Why not William Shatner? I like that William so much better, he was Captain Kirk, not a Prince!
::sigh:: I hate it. I have a standard haircut that I go with. I grew up on Air Force bases for a large portion of my life and my haircuts were always the same; short and sweet. I moved off base, I still kept the same haircut, still combed it the same way, and I was fine with it.
But now, I can't get my same old haircut. Short and sweet no longer exists for me. It's "Prince William or a neon sign saying I'm going bald!"
I choose Prince William...unfortunately.
But let it be known, Prince William...you and I are not friends. You are my newest Arch Enemy. Your haircut will eliminate a dear, old friend of mine (my previous haircut), and you won't be forgiven for that easily. I promise you, one day, when my Rogaine works all the way (I may cry if it doesn't), I will gleefully do away with your haircut.
Until then...you've won the battle, sir. But not the war.
And just for the record, I hated your wedding. It was lame. ::sticks tongue out immaturely::
No comments:
Post a Comment