I shouldn't really...

...but The Husband reads my blog so rarely he might not see this.  Thanks to that godawful GFC, we've been attempting to tighten our belts a little.  NOT that you'd know it after my last trip to the mall when I OD'ed on chunky cardi's, but  my dear friend Kristin was just about to leave the country for good and I needed an emotional outlet for my grief. 

So The Husband bought himself a pair of hair clippers to save the $20 he spends every month on a haircut. (lengthy pause)  I know, I know, I'm hearing you. 

I am terrified of knives, blades, fish hooks, knives, blades, and generally anything sharp.  It's a phobia that I live with daily in my quest to be hairfree and actually cook dinners (or slice bread). 

His first attempt at using his clippers was hilarious. Unbeknownst to me, he'd taken himself off to the bathroom and "had a go".  No offence meant using this expression but he looked like he had been in a concentration camp, or had a case of scurvy or had just been shaven down for a stint in the lockup.  Patchy at best. 
"You're going to have to finish me off" he said.  "BUT I DON"T DO KNIVES"  I silently and inwardly screamed.  "Sure babe", I replied, "No problems".  And what you really don't want when you have a hair emergency is a timid woosy pants at the other end of the blade. 

Did I mention The Husband has very unforgiving BLACK hair. Did I also mention he is the Big Cheese at a big cheesy company, and he was on TV last week in some serious businessy type of programme. 

At one point after a large bald spot had appeared that I then needed to attempt to tidy up (thus causing more widespread "baldness"), I had a moment when I had to choke back the laughter.  Seriously, it would have been a nail in the coffin of our marriage.  Instead I soldiered on, biting my lips and basically just shaving his hair off.  At one point he grumbled "I was just trying to save us some money..."  

You gotta love him for trying, he's like a salmon swimming upstream against the huge current of my spending.
Two days later and he looks like he always looks, patches long gone.
I did say to him, next time, lets do it on a Friday night when it's got the weekend to settle (ie grow back).