I haven’t been to a barber shop in 8 years.


My wife is my barber.
Last night, my wife didn’t do a good job—she cut a big chunk out of my hair.
In that case, she might as well just shave me into a bald head.
This morning, I was going to take the kids to school,
and when the kids saw my egg-shaped head,
they politely declined.
That’s just how I am—casual, and making the best of whatever comes.
Happy as can be, I wore my egg-shaped head, opened my computer, and wrote this story.
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