The hair clippers turned up this afternoon. I put them on charge for a while – until my other half arrived home from school – and then we assembled outside for the “ceremony”.
I sat on a garden chair while my teenage daughters circled me, with grins on their faces and the clippers in their hands. One of them filmed while the others took turns with the clippers, and my other half over-saw proceedings.
It took all of five minutes. At first they were really careful – trimming a little here, and a little there. And then suddenly they were not careful at all any more, with huge clumps of hair falling into my lap, accompanied by giggling, laughter, and expressions of shock.
So. Now I don’t need to get my hair cut for AGES – or brush it – or use shampoo on it really. I wonder how often I’ll have to clipper it if I choose to keep it the same ?
In other news we went through the now practiced drill when my other half got home – her shoes went into a bucket of disinfectant outside, her clothes went straight in the washing machine, and she went straight in the shower. Even though the risk is small, we’re taking few chances.