Agonotheta

Haircut

February 10, 2004

My little sister is in school to be a hair-stylist/cutter/beautician/my personal barber. I went over last night after my nightly run for a trim. This was the conversation that ensued.

"Liz, I'm still disappointed in you for cancelling this last night," I said purposely pushing her buttons and doing my best to sound fatherly.

"So. Maybe if you'd like your hair cut when and where you want you should pay for somebody to cut it. If you want me to cut your hair, you can come here to my house," she retorts.

"Well, it doesn't negate the fact that you DID agree to come to my house last night and cut my hair. Maybe if you didn't want to come to my house to cut my hair, you shouldn't have agreed to."

At this point, I know Liz has had it. "You know what? You can just go get your hair cut somewhere else!"

Time to grovel. "No, Liz, I'm just kidding with you"

Silence. Several minute pass. Crickets churp. Storm clouds move through her living room. I even saw a tumbleweed pass.

Timidly I say, "So can you still cut my hair?"

About ten minutes later, my head has an even 1/8 inch of hair on it.

I love my sisters. They put up with a lot of my shit.