Haircuts gone wild

I think I have mentioned before that the Philosopher has the unfortunate ‘joy’ of calling me his erstwhile hairdresser.

And whatever erstwhile really means, I have a feeling it’s appropriate.

We have instituted a little ritual to make the process bearable for both of us. We wrap ourselves up – him in his haircutting cape, me in my last shreds of confidence – and turn on Planet Money, This American Life or RadioLab as distraction.

Our little buzzer-razor thing which we use broke last time when I “accidentally” dropped it (hoping against hope that would spell my dismissal in this role), but we bought a new one. The cheapest one at Tesco came in this male grooming pack. Does anyone actually use one of these? We had a little fun testing out some of the weirder accoutrements.

The Philosopher went a little wild.*I publish with permission!

No matter how much I doubt that he really needs another haircut already (didn’t we do it 2 months ago? Isn’t that – gulp – enough?!), I am always shocked at how much hair is left on the floor. And a little dismayed…because guess who spends many minutes on hands and knees obsessively picking up stubborn little hairs which will not be swept up with dustpan and brush? C’est moi! And so this episode of the extremely trivial Haircut Chronicles draws to a close.

Tune in next time! I know, I know — you just can’t wait.

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