Scissors

20 Aug

Dear Daddy,

Where do you go all day?  I could really use you at home.  Bad things happen to me when you’re not here.

Take today for instance.  Your wife, the woman you love, the mother of your AWESOME child, came at me with scissors.  She cut things off of my person.  My hair. My poor hair. I worked for a whole year to grow that mullet, and she just snipped it off like it was no big deal.

No pomp and circumstance.  No commemorative photo of my first haircut.  She didn’t even save the locks. Just threw them in the garbage like common household trash.

I hear some kids get cake after their first haircut.  Could you pick some of that up on your way home? You are coming home aren’t you?  I never know.

Love,

Sliced and Diced

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