Hair Today - Gone Tomorrow

It all started one morning when I was giving a bit of a spring clean to my photograph frames.
Picking up our wedding photo from the top of the television set, I found myself staring at it.
I looked down at Keith's smiling face and I thought 'what the heck has he got on his head?' I didn't remember him wearing a hat at our wedding!
Then, it suddenly dawned on me what was so different about him.
He had HAIR on his forehead!
I had lived with that man for almost 22 years. Shared a bed with him. Sat across the table on a daily basis from him. But I had simply NOT noticed he was losing his hair.
Being me I just had to share this discovery with my best friend, his mates, the milkman, in fact, anyone who'd listen.
'Had you noticed? Why hadn't you told me?' I demanded of them.
Of course, it then wasn't long before he became a butt for all the baldy jokes....
'Don't drive with the window open in case the wind blows away what's left'
'Keith! did you know your hair was waving on top?'
He got up and rushed to the mirror. 'Where?' he asked hopefully.
'Waving bye bye' was the sniggering reply.
Things were getting so bad that when I saw hairs on the furniture I didn't know whether to blame him or our border collie.
He even decided to give up swimming lessons as wearing those rubber hats could have proven disastrous, especially if he had forgotton the talcum powder.
The kids were forbidden from buying him those souvenir combs with 'DAD' engraved on when they went on school seaside trips.
And shampoo was brought into the house in a plain brown wrapper.
Of course, he spent less time in the bathroom which turned out better for everyone else in the house.

Amongst Keiths hobbies is a keen love of gardening. He came in one night proudly clutching the first bunch of his sweet peas.
Handing then to me he said, 'If you keep cutting these, apparently more will grow.'
I stifled a smirk and replied, 'Pity the same can't be said about your hair!'
He stopped speaking to me for a while after that and lapsed into a broody silence behind his cigarette smoke.
Another night, as we were getting ready for bed, he asked me if I had seen his comb. I gave him a rather sad look and said 'no'
As I went into the bathroom I had a brainwave. 'Would you like a hairbrush instead?' I asked....handing him a spare toothbrush.
I think that finally did it. I had the silent treatment from then on.
This morning as he was leaving to attend the once yearly agricultural show with his brother I warned him that if it was windy he should stay inside one of the marquees.
I didn't catch his retort, it was drowned by the slamming of the front door.
I sighed and went into the kitchen...'now where did I put my shopping list, I must remember to get an extra tin of polish this week'!