You look like a boy! My dearly beloved announces when he turns around and sees me.
Oh! You got your hair cut! They all announce as I plonk into the room where our aerobics class meets.
It looks fine, they assure me.
(No! It does not look fine! I am stunned at how so not fine it looks)
The wonderful woman who took up cutting my hair when my regular beautician decided to retire, and who has done a wonderful job on my hair the past few times I have gotten it cut, did not do such a good job on it this time.
She got a bit carried away and she cut... and cut.... and cut some more.
I am not a happy camper.
Fortunately, I do not have to appear at the wedding of my sister's oldest daughter until the first weekend in December.
My hair grows fast. It will look fine by then.
In the meantime, I may be wearing one of my son's ball caps for a while.