Monday, April 16, 2007
Teenagers are a Hair raising Experience
I cannot believe I am the mother of two teenagers? Exactly when did that happen? There are days when I can still feel the warmth and smell the stench of baby spit up on my shoulder. Oh the good old days. Life was easy then: spit up, dirty diapers, endless screaming and crying, watching out for disasters, and smiling at the small miracles. What happened to my sweet baby? Now the sweet teenagers don't talk to me, want me to buy them all of their designer clothes, borrow the car, play video games and watch MTV. I am the worst mother because I am the ONLY one who will not allow their teenager out until midnight. Everyone else does. Now I know why mothers eat their young in the wild. Turning 40 isn't so bad as being a parent of a teenager. There is not enough hair color in the world to cover all the gray hairs instilled by my children. I have stood in the aisle of the nationally known chains and studied the little boxes and visited the website http://www.clairol.com/products/products.jsp to find the fountain of youth in a box. My friend swears by it. My hairdresser swears at it. I swear I will never have my natural hair color again.