I have cut Sid’s hair for almost 25 years now.

With clippers.  It isn’t like I have hair-cutting skills.  I just put on the guide and push the switch to “on.”  I won’t go into detail about the once or twice . . . . . .eh, possibly three times . . . . . that I put on the wrong size guide and shaved a long strip down the middle of his head way shorter than originally planned.  So using the clippers requires making sure one has the correct guide before making the first cut —- check the guide twice, cut once.

As my health spiraled, Sid began to help me by doing the first shave himself.  Though he is losing hair, it still grows thick in the spots where hair does grow, so it takes a bit longer than one would think.  Then I take the clippers in hand and spiff up the hairs he missed and clean up his neck.

The other night, I happened to notice a new technique — shaving directly into the dustpan.

I thought it ingenious and cute.

And good grief, that is a lot of hair in the dustpan.  I swear he still has more hair than me.

This is the point at which he realizes I am taking pictures of him on his hands and knees over a dustpan.  See the look on his face.  He doesn’t say a word to me, but I can interpret the look. —

First, it is surprise —- “What is she doing?  Why is she taking pictures of me cutting my hair?”

Second thought —- “Wait!  Will she put this on her blog?”

Third thought —- “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Last thought — “I’ve lost this, man.  If it makes her happy taking pictures of me on the floor shaving my head, then I’m going to let her do it.”

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