Today Son#1 asked me how I liked the new light bulbs in our bathroom. I didn't tell him that when we first installed them that every time I looked in the mirror I wondered if I was ill since I looked so deathly pale. But I did mention that I would like a light bulb to be invented that hid every wrinkle and silver hair.
Miss Almost-Seven was listening and asked, "Why don't you dye your hair brown?"
I explained that I would have to do it every three weeks to cover the roots once I started and that I didn't have the time, and that my grey hairs didn't take dye easily. I could also have added that I don't like putting such a cocktail of chemicals on my head and am also nervous about allergic reactions having reacted to a number of personal care products in the past (with no known common denominator).
She asked, "Don't you like brown hair?"
I replied, "I do. But it's not growing brown out of my head any more."
She was thoughtful for a few moments and I took the opportunity to ask, "Don't you like silver hair?"
"I do," she replied, not very convincingly.
A month or so ago, Miss Three-And-A-Half, to our surprise since we know it's not a topic of conversation encouraged in their home, made a comment about fat people.
DH, thinking to get The Most Adorable Granddaughter#5 on his side, asked, "Is Nana fat?"
She looked at me for a few moments, and then answered, "Nana's a little bit fat."
As my mother told me later, children are nothing if not honest! (Thanks Mum!)
But wrinkles, and silver hair, and fat aside, it was lovely to be honoured today by my family through texts and phone calls and cards and visits and gifts of manuka honey and flowers and chocolate (see, I can blame my family that Miss Three-And-A-Half thinks I'm "a little bit fat"!).
And despite the comments from The Most Adorable Granddaughter#2, I felt I was okay with my silvers and wrinkles. In fact, the younger generation seemed more concerned with the socks I'm knitting them.
Such is life.