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This past summer my husband had a six-week assignment in France. He does some engineering consulting so once we arrive he immediately disappeared to some remote location. While there is a lot to see in Paris I found after the first 2 weeks I was getting cabin fever being in the same hotel room. One morning I decided just for fun to surprise him when he returned and do something different with my hair. It had been over half way down my back since we were married four years ago. I found a small salon where the guy spoke some English. He wanted to cut it very short, but we compromised on chin length with bangs. It looked really cute.

When I talked to my husband two days later I mentioned I was thinking of doing something with my hair. He seemed surprised and made me promise not to cut it more than an inch. When I got off the phone I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered what I should do since I had already cut 15 inches. I liked the feel of shorter hair so in the morning I got the idea that maybe I could pretend I misunderstood his wish. Besides why should he tell me how to wear my hair? The stylist had wanted to cut it shorter so when my husband said not more than and inch he must have meant less than an inch long. I was a bit nervous about doing something so daring but later that day I went back to the salon.

The guy was more than glad to see me. Well it was a shock! He took a pair of clippers and set them to cut 25mm (about 1″). In just two minutes my hair was clipped all over. In spite of the shock it did look really good; just totally different!

To say my husband was surprised was an understatement. I found his reaction very hard to read. On one hand I thought he liked it and his lack of interest was due to his being so tired. On the other I thought his lack of interest was perhaps anger at my disregarding his request not to cut more than an inch. I told him how the guy had used the clippers and it all happened so fast but he said little.

Over three months past and I never thought about trimming it. But one evening he came home and put a bag on the table saying he bought me a present. The first thing I pulled out was a packet of 4 attachment combs for clippers. He said “Thought you might need a trim soon!” The next day was Friday so I made sure I was home early to set up a romantic evening. After dinner we sat with a bottle of wine in front of the fire. I sat on a small footstool with my legs folded up to my chest. He wrapped the plastic cape around my neck and laid out the clippers and attachments on the coffee table. I was getting more nervous about his ability to actually do this but was finding the experience very erotic. My hair had grown to 3 inches long and pruning it back was going to destroy all the progress I’d made. He asked me which attachment I wanted, saying there were numbers 1 to 4. I had no idea! As he combed my hair I told him I was getting nervous and to just get started. Again he asked what attachment. The anxiety took over and I simple said, “Pick one.” Seconds later the clippers were pressing back over the top of my head and clumps of my hair were dropping to the floor in front of me. I could feel the warmth of the fire against my scalp. Without a mirror I couldn’t see what he was doing. When He finally stopped I reached up to feel my hair. I screamed in shock. He had shaved it down to 1/16th of an inch. I got up and stared into the mirror by the piano. My scalp looked shaved. He told me since I had told him to pick one he used the number 1.

I accused him of distorting what I said. He smiled, “Like cut your hair no more than and inch?” The expression “Fair is fair!” came to mind, but I felt euchred. What I discovered was his true passion for my haircut. We have kept it trimmed almost every weekend and I guess you could say I’m his #1 girl.

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