Silver threads among the gold

Darling, I am growing old,  
Silver threads among the gold.

I really don't think I could be described as a vain man.  Granted, for the last few years I have used a small dab of gel on my hair to stop that annoying flop over the forehead but that's more a matter of comfort than for appearance sake.  It didn't bother me when my hair started to go grey, although I am still surprised that when I look in the mirror there appears to be some colour left.  But in photographs, my hair looks white or even silver.  And I'm going thin on top as well.  This was brought home to me about two or three years ago by my granddaughter, then aged about 5 or 6.

"Grandad," she said, "I can see your head through your hair."

My maternal grandfather had a full head of white hair right up until his death in his mid-80s and I had always hoped that I might have inherited that gene through my mother.  (Yes, all right; call me vain if you must.)  Instead, it seems I have my paternal grandfather's hair.  Or rather, I don't have.  He didn't either.  Have hair, I mean.  But OK, I can live with that.  Well, I shall have to, won't I?

But this morning...

SHOCK!  HORROR!!

I looked in the mirror - and saw white hairs in my eyebrows!

I'm not just GROWING old, I've GROWN old!!