Do I look that old to you?

It must be one of those, "Dad it's time," moments. You've seen the ad I'm sure. Two young daughters worrying about their father's graying hair. Well it wasn't my daughter, but I went to get my haircut today and when I was ready to pay the young lady who had cut my hair, just out of Primary School by the look of her, asked "Are you over 65?"

Shocked cannot sum up my feelings at that point. Me, a mere 52 being asked if I was enjoying my pension!

Quickly regaining my composure I replied, "No, I'm not over 65, just tired!"

Honestly, do I look like that old. I thought trimming my beard from full face to goatee was supposed to have taken years off me. Apparently it's not been that effective. I'll have to reach for the Grecian 2000, or maybe something stronger. Do they do a 4000 version?

But before I succumb to some artificial colouring agent I ought to remind myself that there is great comfort in the wise words of the Old Testament.

Youth may be admired for vigour,

but gray hair gives prestige to old age.

Mind you, I'm not too keen on the old age bit.

So I think I'll stick with a symbol of prestige rather make an attempt to cover up the fading colour, and give thanks that there's still plenty of hair to cut even if it leaves the floor looking like there's been a short flurry of rather unusual snowflakes.