A dashing husband...
One of the lesser important aspects of the year of corona are hairstyles, or rather the lack of them. Honestly having golden locks and precision haircuts aren't the be all and end all of life...yet, there are times when I do hanker after some highlights and a proper haircut.
Especially the other day when Bob let on how surprised he was when he noticed a few grey hairs on my head. Natural highlights he called them-ha, he's just lucky that his abundance of grey strands look good on him. Silver fox, extremely dashing. Men, they do have it made when it comes to hair colour...
Since the start of the pandemic I have stepped into Albert's footsteps and have cut Bob's hair. Not easy at all and just my luck that Albert is a stylist of the first order who even trained stylists couldn't come close to. Anyway, today I will attempt yet again to give Bob a reasonably nice haircut.
Now I know why most stylists keep client record cards. Can't for the life of me remember if I used a number 1, 2 or 3 for the last haircut. Despite watching a great many haircuts through the years it still comes as a surprise to run the clippers over a life head of hair. Clipper guard is a must as I couldn't outlive nicking Bob's ear or neck. He'd remind me on a continuous loop about the error of my ways.
The good thing is that our bathroom has only got one mirror so that Bob's unlikely to see the back of his head and as he only wears beanies during winter, none of his friends would notice nor mention a wifely mishap!
Early on we bought a clipper set and I must say it was a great investment. Bob's hair would now be down to his shoulders if we hadn't and as the set included a pair of cheap hairdressing scissors, I have been chopping bits of my hair every now and again. Not great for hairdresser's coffers but, better than to run about like Rapunzel at my age... Wish me luck for this upcoming haircut.
Biggi
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