September 2019, Kimber gave me a nice haircut and we agreed on the next March for me to come back in for a trim. But March 2020 didn’t quite turn out as expected. She is fully vaccinated now and I am, too.
She combed it out and held it up for me to marvel in the mirror with her: Look how long it is!
Yeah, I told her, I pulled the two halves to the front and snipped a few times over the pandemic, otherwise there would have been about ten individual strands down to my waist. I lost a fair amount when I was sick and it got pretty sparse at the bottom.
Do you want this much? (About two inches.) Or this much? (About four, maybe even five.)
I held up my hand to motion the four/five.
My self-snipped edges fell gently away to the floor, finally, after all this time, curling into circles on impact after she’d conditioned it straight. The straggly ends by my face got evened out and morphed into done on purpose. It looks great.
I took a picture when I got home, and of course it didn’t come through, but I have to say I was dumbfounded to see my older brother’s face looking back at me from that photo. Twins.
Except with hair.
And I know exactly who would tell me, with a grin, not to complain over not being able to get a haircut.
Kimber waved me off at the end with, See you in two years!
I laughed/winced, Not that long!