Uncle Fester

It started on a Friday. Day 17…lose hair. I didn’t wash my hair for fear of having to deal with it before work that morning. I tried to avoid touching my hair at all, because every time I did, a handful would come out. By Saturday I was leaving a serious trail of DNA everywhere I went. I went to a party that night and told the hostess she would need to vacuum after I left.

And the thing is, I wanted it gone at that point. My hair hurt. It felt like it used to after wearing a high ponytail, then taking it down. When I got home that night I started pulling it out. My dog seemed concerned about the head of hair growing on the coffee table. I had a lot of hair. At one point I took the dogs out and let handfuls of hair blow in the wind; I hope the neighbors weren’t watching. Too bad it wasn’t spring, because the birds could have had a field day making nests with it, and I would have enjoyed seeing little nests built of red hair all around the yard.

Of course it didn’t all come out. I was left with stubble and tufts. The next day I went to tutor and wore my new hair for the first time. I stopped at Starbucks for coffee first, but left my hood on because I felt ridiculously conspicuous. It also hurt. The stubble and tufts dug into my head under the wig and by the end of tutoring I had a horrible headache that had nothing to do with ACT prep.

After tutoring I was supposed to meet my daughter’s downtown for lunch. I couldn’t do it, I cried into the phone in a sudden outburst. As is their way, they surprised me by coming home instead. I was sitting on the couch when they arrived and threw a blanket over my head in a panic. They came in smiling and demanding to see. Of course they laughed.

Then they took me into the bathroom and shaved my head—something daughters shouldn’t have to do for their moms—but really who else would I ask? What a relief it was and putting the wig on no longer hurt.

I have seen people who look good bald. I am not one of them. I stared for a long time trying to think of whom I resembled, besides a turtle…then it hit me. I look like Uncle Fester.

So it is the wig for me. Many people don’t even notice. Many people have complimented it so much I wonder how bad my old hair looked! One little first grader had the best compliment however.
“Nice shower!” she said to me.
“Nice shower? “ I asked.
“Yes, your hair is so shiny and clean.”
“Thank you,” I answered.