Otherwise known as having a haircut. My head, which used to look like a beachball, is now only the size of a tennis ball by comparison. You could have stuffed a serious cushion with the hair that was left behind on the hairdresser’s floor. My hair is ultra short again and I feel so much lighter.
Drama Duck says I look just like her father now. Scary thought. They say that married couples start to resemble each other after a while. (Or is it that people start to look like their dogs? I can never remember.)
Worse still, it’s not just a physical resemblance. I’m even starting to think like him. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
I walked past his car in the carpark on the way to the hairdresser’s. I was seized with the urge to move it – just by a couple of spots. He might not even notice, or he might come back to the car and go “what the??”. I don’t usually think like that, but it’s the kind of thing that occurs to him all the time. I was strong, however, and squashed the evil impulse.
Ten minutes later I’m sitting in the hairdresser’s and he wanders in with a silly grin on his face.
“I thought I’d better tell you in case you panicked,” he says. “I moved your car.”
I tell you, it's a match made in heaven.
That is awesome about moving the cars. Thor and I do that to each other all the time.
ReplyDeleteAnd I LOVE the feeling of chopping off a lot of hair.
Nice to know we're not the only ones who do these strange things, Jacqui!
ReplyDeleteI hope my husband doesn't read your blog. He loves to tease me, and he doesn't need any new ideas. I have enough trouble finding my car when it is in the same place that I parked it!
ReplyDeleteThey all seem to have an inexhaustable supply of ideas when it comes to harrassing their wives, don't they! It must come with the testosterone or something.
ReplyDelete