Once a blonde, always a blonde

I've begun the process of lightning my hair color. It's been a dark brown, nearly black, for about ten years now. A stark contrast to the dirty dishwater blonde I was previously. But my grey hairs are now coming in fast and furious. And those grey hairs look pretty dramatically light against my dark hair. So I decided that it was time to go lighter so as to lessen the contrast. Not that I plan to go completely blonde again. And not that my grey hairs won't still be noticeable...just maybe not as holy-wow-that-girl-really-needs-to-get-her-hair-done-stat sort of obvious. But it's been so dark for so long that it's going to be and already has been a lengthy process. This most recent trip to salon brought my hair color to a point where it is now noticeably lighter.

Bryan is thrilled. And my Dad actually thanked me when he noticed. I started wondering if they had actually hated my hair for the past ten years...
(They both assure me that this is not the case.)

I was reading a blog post this morning. About a lady who was having a frazzled sort of morning. It involved getting her kids to school on the first day and smashing her finger in the door, blood spurting everywhere...all while promising to help a friend jump his car because of a dead battery so he could get to the airport. So, after getting the kids off and trying to staunch the blood from her finger...she opened her trunk, nodded to the jumper cables sitting there and told her friend to go get his car so they could get started.
To which he stared at her and said, could you be any more blonde? She felt dumb and made excuses about her injured finger and frazzled state of mind.
And I sat there trying to figure out what the problem was.
Was there some double entendre that I was catching onto? What was she apologizing for? What was she feeling blonde about? I just wasn't seeing it.

I read the passage a couple more times and then continued to skim down the post a ways before I finally figured it out. Oh! Duh. Of course the guy can't bring his car to hers...his battery is dead. That's the whole point of needing jumper cables.
And then I laughed at myself and felt rather dumb.

Because apparently it doesn't matter if you have been a brunette for ten years....underneath it all, the blonde lives on.