Michelle's Many Musings

Earlier this summer, my dear husband saw a photo of a 40+ woman with a pretty crazy haircut and colour job. Disliking it, he made the collossal mistake of a lifetime by saying, "Boy, am I ever glad you don't have the guts to do that."
"Pardon me??" says I.
"You don't have the courage to do that," he says, firmly wedging both feet into his mouth.
I told him he had two weeks to recant his questioning my courage over something as silly as hair. It's true, I have never dyed my hair before and I was intending to grow it out, but for goodness sake it's just hair! The gauntlet had been dropped though; recant and my hair stays, or keep up the silly banter and be prepared for a shock.
His response was, I kid you not, "I dare you."

Two weeks later, with much shorter and purple streaked hair, I picked him up at work. He was, rather humourously I would say, dumbfounded, gobsmacked, speechless. I had the hairdresser also style it pretty wild and wooly, so it was unlike anything he'd ever seen on my head.
"Where did my predictable wife go?" he moaned, as he was recovering from shock.
"You never had one of those," was my tart reply.

For the next two weeks, he kept asking if it was going to wash out by the time we visited his parents. "Of course not, dear!" was my rather humoured reply. Sadly, my in-laws weren't nearly so shocked - all that was reserved for my dear husband. I wonder what the next colour will be? I was thinking a lovely shade of blue.