Salon M.

This weekend, M. had what he considers a bright idea (to be fair, it turned out well and his idea, for that night, was indeed bright):  haircut-at-home.  It's a great idea if you're good at cutting.  I am not.  But yet M. invited me to take some fool-proof kid clippers to his hair and cut.

Here's the thing.  I backed out after a few snips.  I'm greatly opposed to this plan.  In my opinion, there is no reasons - financial or otherwise - that M. can't get his haircut by a professional.  Indeed, he used to enjoy schmancy treatment at those fancy barbers, e.g., The Grooming Station.  And I'm a big proponent of "image matters."  He's our sole breadwinner.  The man needs to look presentable.  And I am not the answer (heck, I don't even iron his shirts; that would be a disaster and it's worth every $1.25 per shirt to have them laundered.  Call me fiscally wasteful.  I call it strategic.).  Anyway, M. took over.  And, impressively, he did a good job.

But I'm still opposed to this plan (maybe I'm influenced by the difficulty of cutting my own curly hair?).  Fine, skip the Grooming Lounge.  Go to the barber down Route 1 who charges $7.95 for a cut.  At some point, cutting your own hair without really seeing the back of your head as you cut it is going to lead to disaster (even if M. is okay with the worse-case scenario, a shaved head).  Fingers crossed.  Let's see what happens in 6 weeks ;)