When I went home to my mom's my hair was this long...crazy homeless man length.
This is my brother Dave post haircut. Gosh he looks happy. That's because this is the haircut he asked Mom to give him. 
This is me post hair cut. I don't look as happy do I? THAT'S BECAUSE THIS IS NOT THE HAIRCUT I ASKED FOR! Mom asked me how I wanted my hair cut. I said, "Like it is only shorter." She heard, "Like HIS only shorter." By the time I realized what she was doing she was half done with my hair cut. So I let her finish.
Then I went home and did this.
It's a workable solution, but not perfect. I feel this haircut makes minorities very jumpy and cancer survivors think I'm mocking them.
I was on the phone the other night making plans with mom to come home this weekend when she told me that they MAY start locking the house. This is not a reaction to my coming home (as far as I know...hmmmmm.) but rather a response to a "disturbing" incident a few weeks ago. Mom told me that she came home and knew someone had been in their garage because someone had left a jacket there. "There was no note on it, they didn't want me to sew it or anything," she said.
That's right, my home town is so small that peoplke are worried about others breaking in and LEAVING them things. Soon they will be overrun with cookies and muffin baskets! The horror! The horror!
Labels: Grundy Center, Iowa, Mom
