A little off the top

Hair has at times been a preoccupation in our family.
Added to the other fine qualities that both our children’s respective spouses were adding to the gene pool was our joy that finally someone was bringing good hair to the mix.

          My sister, who dodged the rebellious mane that I received, saw a photo of the four of us when the kids were in their teens. It was summer at the lake, a humid summer, and her immediate comment was, “What’s with the hair?” Each of us stood smiling for the camera with what looked to be an enraged Maine Coon cat perched on our heads.

          I can still remember a date in college with the dreamboat Scott M. I had carefully straightened my waves, which at the time reached well below my shoulders. He must have thought it would be romantic to bring me to a castle-like structure high on a hill with an impressive view. Except it was a foggy, damp evening and instead of enjoying myself, the evening was ruined as I became frizz-fixated, certain that my head was expanding to three times normal size.

          Across campus, My Guy had his own issues, with red hair than always needed to be thinned before the barber could make any headway. On more than one occasion, before a big date, he would wet his head and jam on his motorcycle helmet, attempting to straighten his hair.

          Nowadays, what with Covid and no trips to the hairdresser, I’ve been okay, just letting my hair get longer and longer, and stuffing it into an elastic, but things have been veering into Bozo land for him. Slapping on a ball cap really only made things worse, what with everything trying to escape from either side. 

 So, Saturday night found us out in the garage, me with the scissors and him wearing his hat for a guide.