Cutting News!

We interrupt our originally scheduled series of backlogged blog posts to bring you this special news bulletin: I got a haircut.

No, really. On Thursday night Amber and I were joking around about buzzing my head - something I hadn't had done since I was around eight years old. I remember it was at Grandma and Grandpa Verhaaren's house one summer, but that's another story. So, after flirting with the idea of becoming much more aerodynamic I heard my mouth release the words, "Yeah, let's shave it off." With that, it only took a few minutes under the sound of buzzing clippers and my looping locks lay lifeless on the linoleum of our bathroom floor. This is possibly the shortest I have ever worn my hair, excluding the previously mentioned summer.

It was Amber's third try at cutting my hair in our entire marriage, the last time happening years ago resulted in an emergency trip to the campus barber first thing the next morning. I'm biased, but I think this is her best cutting job yet. Which brings up a point that I haven't been making clear to those I've told this story to in person. The purpose of the haircut was to go this short. I wanted it. There was not mistake on the length, although most of my co-workers think otherwise.

See for yourself, and let me know what you think.