The following day . . .
I got my hair cut on Thursday. Neither my wife nor my daughters noticed. Either that or they simply did not say anything about it. Until today, that is. Little Miss "Dad, you look ugly with a bald face" was standing behind me and suddenly said, "Dad, why did you get your hair cut?!" She said she wanted me to grow it back out again to the same length that it had been. (To actually quote Savannah: "Dad, I *order* you to . . .") Colette then suggested that I grow my hair out as long as Rapunzel's. I told her that it would take me at least forty years to do that, assuming I had any hair left by then. (As Savannah pointed out earlier today, "Dad's hair isn't thriving.")
Sad but true. My hair is not exactly thriving. Thank you for reminding me, dear daughter!
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