The New Me

Every year about this time I get restless and want change. I get sick of seeing myself in the mirror. It's more than the fact that I'm not much to look at. It's boredom. My hair usually bears the brunt of these moods. But I can't cut it much shorter, and I'm too old to dye it raspberry. This year I bought a wig. What fun! I put it on, and suddenly I'm a new person. Confident and assertive. No kidding, I even stand straighter.

Did I mention I bought this wig without telling my husband? The poor guy left in the morning with me bidding adieu, and came home to a new woman. My wig is about an inch longer than my hair, and lighter in color. John looked at me and said, "I see you've been to the stylist." "Do you like it?" I asked as I strutted around him. "It'll take some getting used to." He didn't sound happy. That's when it hit. He thought the wig was real. Okay, hair can be dyed in a day. But grow an inch? I let him believe it for a while, then said, "You do know this is a wig, don't you?" I've never seen anyone look so relieved in my life. This hairpiece is gorgeous, so why didn't he go nuts over it? I can't figure it out. Unless he's just so used to drab brown hair the change was more than he could bear.

It's so nice to throw on my new 'do'. When I chase the puppy, who loves to grab one of my slippers and play keep-away, my hair gets messy. All I have to do with the wig is shake my head, run my fingers through it, and it falls back into place. My real hair just stands on end. I think it makes my boobs bigger, too. But that could be wishful thinking.

To all you ladies who want a change, my advice is buy a wig. You might get that extra boost needed to get through this endless winter!