What’s a growing-bald-by-the-minute Mama to do? Prepare for the fallout and find the great coverup.

To wig out, or not to wig out? That’s the question. But when I still had long hair and had to imagine what it’d like to be going el commando on top, I grabbed my wigman. Alexandra, of course. It’s not like wig shopping during Covid can be a spectator sport. One person allowed.

We discussed the strategy beforehand, No normal wigs! Fun wigs need only apply. I’d look good in all the colors and hairstyles; I wouldn’t be able to decide. We’d make a game of it.

There was that Halloween that I wore a red wig, and I looked adorable.

People stopped us on the street and asked, “Are you for real? Is she really getting arrested?” And I’d say, “Yes, and my name is Candy.” I’m sure it was because of the authentic wig that I was wearing so nonchalantly knowing I had hair to back it up.

Only Alexandra saw in my eyes when I no longer wanted to play the game. One wig made me look sicker than the next. I have a small head, and the weave made them poof out and round out my face, making me look like the Pillsbury Doughboy with hair slapped on.

But I found a normal wig if I have to go to a wedding, as the saleswoman put it. Who needs to go to a wedding in the middle of Covid and cancer treatments? But I didn’t argue. I just wanted a wig for the days that I longed for long hair again.

But I did get a fun wig, too. Pink. So I could be the glamourous, closet, COVID, Cancer Chemo Diva that I never had it in me to be with my normal hair.

In case the wig thing doesn’t work out, there’s nothing like opting for a chemo beanie instead. I’ve always looked good in hats, so how hard could that be?

It wasn’t much better than wig shopping. The models have hair and makeup and big earrings, exactly what I won’t look like when I’m sitting on the couch, pretending not to notice I”m bald as a ping pong ball.

I spent thousands of dollars (minus all the returns) trying to figure out the new me. Trying to bring style and glamour to my head so I don’t feel like a cancer victim.

If only I had a beanie genie to make me a match! If only hair loss could be that simple. If only there were a great coverup just for me! Yes, if only…

Somehow longing for long hair again, I’ve discovered the truth behind all this wigging out over hair loss. That one undeniable truth. All the great coverup needs to do is keep ’em guessing: wait, does that mama have hair under there?!