Hair today, gone tomorrow.

Whatever programmer wrote the genetic code had a serious sense of humor!

Take hair for instance. Hair is programmed with color and texture. Which makes sense. But it also seems to be programmed with a sense of direction. This hair goes to the top of your head. This one is an arm hair. This also makes sense. The humor part comes in when one has been around for a few years. Seems, especially for the male of the species, that after a random period of time, your hair loses its sense of direction. Suddenly much of the hair that is supposed to arrive on the top of your head gets lost, and finds a new home in the oddest of places. Your nose. Your ears. Your back.

Some people’s hair never quite loses its sense of direction. Unfortunately I was not one of the lucky ones. In order to ensure that the few hairs that make it where they should on top of my head don’t feel too lonely, I have opted to shave my head for the last decade or so.

Back in the day when my hair was young and less confusable, I rarely got it cut, not wanting to reign in its free hair spirit too much. So I tended to shagginess until someone (such as my mother) would guilt me into trying to look civilized. So it is safe to say the last time I was in a hair salon for myself was at least a decade ago. Except for the occasion where my built in irreverence has me wandering in as a bald man asking for a perm or something.

So could someone please explain to me why my mother, who today was going with my dad to have their monthly haircut appointment, decided it was a good idea to ask ME – the guy with the directionally challenged hair who has NOT had a haircut in an indefinite amount of years – what the proper amount of money was to tip a stylist?

At the moment I am as confused as my hair seems to be.

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About Taochild

Kind of like a transformer.
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