“It’s a little wispy here. Do you mind if I cut this?”

It looked fabulous when Gwyn was done, and, having caught up a bit–I’ve known her since she was born–we gave each other a hug and I asked her to please never ever move away.

She laughed. No immediate plans to, thanks.

No longer does my hair pin me for that nanosecond while I quickly (oh right, here you go) lean forward in the driver’s seat to release it so that I can look in my side view mirror. That’s where I tend to say okay, we’re done here: cut!