Sunday, August 07, 2005

Haircuts.

Maybe it's my morbid side coming out, but there are some really funny things about living with someone with a terminal illness.

Last week, right before she went into the hospital, my mom insisted on giving my dad a haircut. Halfway through, she realized that she was really just too sick and tired to be cutting hair. So she stopped. Halfway through.

Because she was sick and in the hospital last week, my dad's spent quite a while now with a half-finished haircut. It's very funny. Like a mini-mullet. Super-short in the very front, old man style overgrown-in-need-of-a-haircut in the back. Like a non-bald man's comb over, or something.

My mom's given a few notorious haircuts in her time. My favorite, of course, was the "Monk Cut." It's a classic. Post-transplant shakes + too big glasses + not wanting to get my picture taken =