Excuse me, Sir...

This past Sunday the salon where I normally go to get my hair cut was holding a cut-a-thon fundraiser. My normal stylist was not going to be there but the haircuts were half price and how hard is it to do the same bob I always get. When the person asked what I wanted done I told her chin-length (as I pointed to the middle of my neck) and a little shorter in the back. I might as well have been speaking a foreign language! If I take the few little strands that are left next to my ears and stretch them down the side of my cheek they might reach past my chin about a millimeter. I should have known when she used that little razor tool instead of actual scissors that something was wrong. When I put my hand to the back of my head... my hair was GONE. Nothing. Like someone chopped off my pony tail. I could not believe it and this was about the time she handed me the mirror and spun me around. I was shocked. I didn't know what to say, I mean what do you say after someone cuts off all your hair? It's already done, it's not like she can pick it up off the floor and glue it back on.

It's not a total catastrophe, the cut actually looks kind of sassy I was just not prepared for going this short, it was past my shoulders up til now. But it has its hazards -- I took Clay to a park this morning and the kid next to him on the swings said 'Excuse me Sir, can you push me too?'. The bright side is if I spike it up in the back I can go as Kate from John & Kate Plus 8 for Halloween.



This is a view of the 4 or 5 strands of hair that were saved in the massacre. They're all flipping out in different directions after being lashed by the razor. Blasted razor. Never again....