I'm going bald.
As in hairless.
I'm losing my locks at such a rapid rate that I'm sort of surprised I have anything left to run a brush through.
I've read a ton of literature about how women's hair follicles become like steel traps during pregnancy and that almost no hair falls out for nine months. But I had no idea that the situation would reverse itself so completely and quickly after giving birth.
I practically leave a path of hair behind me when I walk. Hansel and Gretel wouldn't have needed bread crumbs if I had been hanging out with them. We could've just followed the furry trail out of the forest.
I am constantly freeing myself from rogue strands that make their way off my head. You know how you get that annoying little tickle where it aggravates your skin every time you move, and then you paw at it blindly, trying to grasp something that's so small your fingers can't even detect it? So you keep trying and trying and trying until you finally trap that sucker and it feels like a major victory?
Imagine doing that every second of every day. Pawing at the one that's sticking to the back of your right shoulder. And the one that found its way down the front of your V-neck shirt. And the one that's still half tangled in your head, but far enough down that it's tickling your neck. And the one that somehow managed to fall into the back of your pants and wedge itself firmly into your ass crack. Yeah. That one's my favorite.
Then there are the clumps. They come out together in little hair gangs when I run my fingers through. It's like they refuse to travel alone. They grew together, they're leaving together. In mass quantities.
The shower is the worst. I've always lost a few strands under the water, but now it's enough to form a baseball-sized clump. If I forget to move the clump from the drain to the garbage, Jerry very kindly reminds me that I left my pet hedgehog in the tub and it might need to be fed before it gets angry.
I think I'll name him Harry.