I have had grey hairs ever since I was eight. I found a little clump of them hiding away at the back of my head. It was amusing at the time; something I could tell my friends to gain their admiration. 

Now, however, it's not so funny. I'm two years off 40 and am becoming just a little bit more grey than I want to be. 

"I think I'll have to dye my hair," I told the children, about six weeks ago. 

"Yes, yes, yes," they said, absolutely delighted for some reason. 

Since then, I have been pestered every week on shopping day to buy the hair dye, and pestered every day since I bought it, to use it.

Finally, three weeks after I purchased the stuff, my daughter took it out of the packet, put on the gloves, read the instructions and made me sit down while she poured it all over my head.

I have just rinsed it out, and I have to say, I feel odd. I don't know what I think about pouring chemicals all over my head so I can retain an appearance of youth. I'm not sure I like it. I don't know if I'll keep on doing it. We'll see.