Cider Press Hill

Kids are funny

I was looking at myself in the mirror a couple of days ago when the thought occurred to me...I want to cut my hair.

Now, I’ve had long hair all my life. Or varying degrees of long hair. Never shorter than shoulder length, in any case. For me, it’s just easier to deal with it when it’s all one length.

That leaves me with two choices, really. Either leave it at shoulder length (or longer) or cut it really, really short. The latter option appeals to me a lot. I think this short hair yen may happen to women of a certain age. Or something.

I mentioned the thought to the lad, in passing. “I think I’m going to get my hair cut.”

He gave the most startled look. “How short?” he asked. “Like just a trim or super short?”

“Super short.” I said.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said. “It would look awful on you. I’m good at visualizing these things.”

“I’m not convinced,” I said. “I think you’re just used to seeing me this way.”

“Would you cut it really short and then spike it with gel?” he wondered. “Because if you did, I would walk right past you and pretend not to know you.”

“No, I wouldn’t spike it, for heaven’s sake.”

“Well, I still don’t think you should cut it short.”

“You know,” I said, “when you leave for college, I’m going to go nuts. I’m going to buzz cut my hair, get a tattoo, and pierce my nose.”

“Just remember,” he said, “it works both ways. I can come home with a tattoo and a pierced eyebrow.”

“You still have to deal with your dad,” I reminded him. “I think he might disown you if you did that.”

“Good point.”

So, I guess I’m going to just have my hair trimmed in the interest of family harmony.

For now.

Posted on 05/16/05 at 05:32 PM
 




Commenting is not available in this weblog entry.

Cider Press Hill

Next entry: Not so fast

Previous entry: Loose ends