I’m was reluctant to blog about this because it’s so stupid, but my husband deserves a little harmless public humiliation for cutting his own hair today. And it should be known that not even I, with all my numerous cuts and colors over the years, have ever attempted to cut my own hair. It’s never even crossed my mind.
Except for that one time with the monkey safety scissors when I was 3 and my dad fell asleep while babysitting.
But enough about me. Back to Mike cutting his own hair.
Over the past few days, he became so fixated with needing a haircut that he apparently couldn’t wait for the 2 long, tortuous, endless days until payday and decided to trim his own hair.
With kitchen scissors.
Which led to an emergency trip to Sally Beauty Supply for trimmers, and by the time I came home he looked like Christopher “Kid” Reid.


Yes – that’s my bra in the background, thank you for noticing.
But the best part – the best part – of his haircut is the back. Mike learned just how ineffective kitchen scissors are in cutting the back of your own hair. After taking several pictures and nearly peeing my pants laughing, I did try to help make it look like he’s stopped molting.

In defense of this post, Mike prepared me for his haircutting debacle before I got home from work and even said “On the bright side, you have something good to blog about.”
Thanks to my help it doesn’t look that bad. See what a good wife I am? I may get a good laugh at his expense, but in the end I pull through.
But while he’s away at work, I will be removing all sharp objects from the house.














I’m a little confused.





