So the virus crisis and stay-at-home normal here in Central New York has reached round two of my do-it-yourself vanity mechanizations.
Can’t go to Theresa’s joint, Hairy Notions, for my every-four-week beard and hair trim.
The hair I was able to let go the last time around.
This time, both ends of my head had to face my clippers.
I took care of the beard myself, with some cleanup work with scissors around the ‘stache from my dear wife Karen. She declared that I’d done better than the first time attempt four weeks prior. Confidence does breed excellence, I declared. Well, competence, at least. Don’t worry, Theresa.
After careful consideration, we decided that Karen would handle all the hair. We set the clipper length seating from 1 to 3 and let her at it.
Now I’m ready to feel less stuffY behind that mask of mine, and sleeker on our windy days, too.