After almost a year of trying to grow it out, I again cut my hair. Yeah, I know. Everybody else in the world was telling me to continue growing it. The one person who wanted me to cut it mattered the most: my wife. Yep. Nobody said anything about it at work. My mom even was leaving me alone about it. But, Danelle hated it - with a passion. Stupid me. I thought I could convince her that it was cool. Nope. She wouldn't buy it.
So, a couple of weeks ago while she was getting her hair cut, she made an appointment for me, too. The girl used a "magic comb," which was a comb with a hair razor in it. Probably the coolest thing I've ever seen. It made mince meat of my mane within a matter of minutes, leaving clumps of hair 6 to 10 inches long on the floor. What a waste!
The truth is I really like being married. I guess it means I'll be keeping my hair short for the rest of my life. I guess there are worse things, though I'm not able to think of any right now.
I still like being married, though. I really, REALLY do. Which is exactly why I cut my hair in the first place.
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