Seriously, I Thought a Brazillian Was Some Kind Of Drink

This weekend found me in a position I've been in several times throughout my life - sitting amongst a pile of my newly shorn hair. It was about this time last year I decided I was growing it out again, and with the reluctant approval of my lovely wife...well, I didn't really do anything but stop getting haircuts so often. It's not like growing your hair out takes work.

Anyway, it had gotten long enough to officially be long, and as usual, I was already sick of how I looked. The idea of cutting it short had rumbled around my brain for a few weeks, but I kept pushing it back, if for no other reason that it had been a damned year. Growing it out doesn't take work, but it definitely takes time. So each time I though about cutting it, I'd reconsider and think to myself, "Let's give it another month and see how it looks".

As part of our to-do list, the Moose and I went in for haircuts this weekend. I just got mine trimmed and layered. I have no idea what it means to have your hair layered, but the wife said it needed it, and I passed that along to the lady cutting my hair as if I knew what I was talking about. She took an inch or so off the back, layered it (she could have just been opening and closing the scissors in the air for all I know), and said we were good. My lovely wife told me it looked better, and I was happy.

So I pay for our new quaffs, and having finished paying I go to collect the family from the waiting area. Much to my dismay, I find my wife and daughter going through a book of men's hairstyles discussing what would look good on daddy. I'm not typically one to pick up on hints that aren't stapled to my forehead, but the idea that maybe my new do was somehow less than pleasing to my good lady wife bothered me immensely. As I've probably mentioned before, I pretty much have one person in the world I have to impress as far as looks are concerned, so when I feel like I'm blowing that it doesn't sit right with me.

After some measure of badgering on my part, it was conveyed to me that a shorter cut would have been preferred, and since I had been considering it anyway, I went back the next day to have the job completed. The only catch is that now I have to remember how to style my hair, a task made unnecessary when it was longer. Well, that and my ears are cold. Still, it's all worth it if my lovely wife finds it more attractive, and it additionally fulfills my need to be constantly changing some part of my physical appearance.

I'm just glad she stopped dropping hints about the bikini wax - I am not going through that again.