#1: It's still a tad thin for me. Though the sun isn't exactly spewing out damaging rays these days, there's still too much scalp and not enough hair for my liking and I'll continue to protect it.
#2: It's freezing cold (according to my internal copy of the Reference Guide for Los Angelenos Living Elsewhere) where we live now, and being that most of the body heat escapes from the head, bald heads should remain covered at all times. Even when sleeping.
#3: See #2 and factor in a few random flurries falling on my way to the bus stop in the morning.
I have taken to walking around the house "topless" lately, and not given much thought to opening the door to strangers, or the little girl across the street when she came over last week to see if Merrick could play. Being his age, I don't think she was fully aware of what she was seeing, but I could see the little wheels turning as she looked at me with a cocked head; trying to figure out what was out of place.
With that said, I do enjoy watching it grow back. I'm slightly enamored by the softness and find myself petting it whenever it's out in the open; much like one would stroke a baby, or a puppy. But never a kitten, because kittens are gross.
I'm also slightly enamored with the color that is coming in. Dare I say it has reflections of blond? Natural blonds are like Bigfoot; plenty of myths and rumors, but no confirmed sightings around here. At least not since I was 4.
Regardless of what's coming in, it's clearly not as dark as that brown stuff I shaved off in the sink a few months back. But so goes it with chemo regrowth. A change in color is to be expected, as is a change in texture. I'll enjoy my baby soft locks for as long as I can. I'm sure the wiry stuff is already on its way and so is that tiny little flat iron I ordered to fix them.
|Why yes, that is a nice little scar on top of my head. Didn't everyone get hit by a 2x4 when they were in the 5th grade?|