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Queer Eye for the Straight Dad?
By Linda Sharp
and that while two items of clothing may be blue, they may not match because of the shade. He has come (or been dragged) a long way. 
And while any impending travel I may have to do strikes terror into the hearts and hair follicles of my daughters, he has mastered an acceptable ponytail.
It is in this hair arena that he flounders the most. His is brown. Normal. Low maintenance. Nothing that 30 seconds with a brush and a blow dryer can't accomplish. He even lets me cut it. No candy-striped barber pole visits for him. So while he oohs and aahhhs appropriately over each daughter as they emerge from 20 minutes of being dried and coifed by Mama Sassoon, he doesn't "get" paying that much attention to something that just grows like a weed from your head. (Personally, I don't even know what color actually grows out of mine. Ask me and this week I would say Creme Brulee #31 – that's what the box says.)
But never let it be said that old dogs cannot learn new tricks.
He happened to come into the bathroom just as I was finishing applying highlights to my oldest daughter's hair. And since the kit provides enough creme to highlight not only Lady Godiva's flowing locks, but her horse as well, I jokingly waved it at him and asked if he wanted some.
In a moment right out of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, he knelt down and let me start applying it.
Fifteen minutes later, he had gorgeous copper highlights in his once sober brown locks. As the girls stood around him cheering, he preened ever so slightly in the mirror and simply shrugged his shoulders.
As I stood by, incredulous, but admiring, I couldn't help but wonder ... what's next? New underwear?!?
