It's like a cow opinion, it doesn’t matter, its moo

I have a gray hair. No it’s not my first and it definitely isn’t my last. It is, however, the first one I’ve left alone. I haven’t tweezed it, I haven’t dyed it, and I silently nod to it each morning in the bathroom mirror. Perhaps I’m hoping it will age me some to outsiders. I’m loud and silly and rarely taken seriously by other parents who are ten years my senior. Yes, my daughter is approaching double digits and I’m still in my twenties. “TAKE ME SERIOUSLY,” my gray hair exclaims, while I tug-of-war with the third graders. I’m the cool mom all the kids love and many mothers sneer at. “Well look at my gray hair,” I say to those “grown-up” moms. “I’m just as much of a mother as you are.”