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This is not a rant about aging. I appreciate the fact that I am still alive and kicking. Maybe not kicking so much as dragging one leg behind me while flailing the other...but I digress. Seriously, as much as I joke about getting older, Kendrick and I still laugh about it.
Kendrick has been on a kick about growing his hair out "one last time." He started balding several years ago, and a day hasn't gone by that he hasn't pointed it out in one way or another. ( and men say women are vain) He spent most of last year with a shaved head, claiming that he had given up the fight. At some point this summer he decided to give it one more chance. His obsession with the balding became even more prevalent. Every day asking, "should I just shave it off again? Does it look ridiculous?" To which I replied, "grow it out a bit longer, maybe the thicker parts will cover the thinner parts as it gets longer." Also, "you're driving me freaking crazy with this" may have come out of my mouth a time or two.
Tonight...
I think I sealed the deal when I was running my hands through his hair and I noticed a new balding spot in the back. Maybe it was the audible gasp. Maybe it was the fact that I kept leafing through the same spot like I was looking for lice. I tipped him off though, and when he asked what I was looking at... I told him the truth.
One would have thought that I had just announced that his back hair was on fire. He jumped up so fast that I was thrown backwards. "Take a picture of it..right now!!!" So I did. With Flash. I decided that the flash made it look worse than it was so I took another without it. "That's it! I'm shaving my head!! How could you let me walk around like this?!" As if I was to blame for his hair falling out faster than a tree loses leaves in the fall? "I don't know.." I said. "This is the first I've seen it."
I may have been laughing at his reaction.
"Take a picture of the front, I want to see it for what it is!"
"Ok, ok...hold on..let me just turn the flash off.."
"DO NOT turn the flash off! Just take the damn picture!!"
"Okay, if that's what you really want. I'm just saying, it looks worse that way."
(staring at me with disbelief on his face) He calmly says, "Just. take. the. picture."
I held my camera to my chest with a death grip. I knew he was going to blow his lid. (and what hair remained)
"Show me the picture."
I may or may not have been laughing hard. I show him the picture.
For some sick reason, the look on his face made me lose it. Here I am, showing my husband that his hair is falling out. A sign that he's aging...and I start laughing so hard I choke.
Karma is a bitch sometimes.
I peed myself.
A year after my hysterectomy, my bladder fell. All the sinew and organ that held it into place all of my life was gone. Leaving my bladder in a sad, droopy state of affairs. So yes, I have spent years doing kegals and pelvic floor exercises, but my bladder is floating around in there just bouncing off of other things. It's not supposed to do that. It needs support. (kind of like my increasingly saggy boobs)
I remember a time when laughing didn't raise the red flag of "get yer diaper on, you're in for a wet ride." Any woman who has given birth to a big baby or has had a traumatic birth, knows that things just aren't always right after it. A sudden cough may cause you to squeeze your legs together in hopes that you can keep from dripping. Yes, I said dripping. It's not a pretty thing. It's real life.
So there we are. Him lamenting his hair loss and me peeing myself. Growing old together doesn't get much more real than that.
He's shaving his head as I write this. No more to worry about what his hair looks like.
And I solemnly swear to not sit on anyone's lap while laughing.
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