(my soundtrack: "Sunshine on My Shoulders" by John Denver)
Mr. Bliss wears his exceptionally well and I'm jealous.
Not that I would ever think of dying my gray hair, but it gets me kinda pissy that he was seven years old when I was born and his gray hair is almost invisible. Mine seems to sprout in the wee hours, while I'm doing laundry or blogging.
He also looks really young, that Mr. Bliss. He's welcoming 50 with open arms but his face could be mistaken for late 30s. No joke.
I saw a picture of him taken when he was 25. He looked 15. Seriously.
So I know his momma dyes her hair. But she still has a lot of it at 70+. (And everyone already knows she's best friends with Miss Clairol so it's no secret.)
When Father-in-law Bliss died at 74, he had a head full of thick silky strands of silver with a whole lot of coal black still visible. And he didn't look a minute older than 60 or so.
Now I'm not hating cuz my family has young-ish genes too. But Mr. Bliss inherited the Fountain of Youth genes.
Lucky him. *snarl*