Haircut

I cut my own hair once.

Slime got into it and I was terribly distressed. So I took a pair of scissors, thought well it will grow back, and cut it off with a grimace. I grieved my hair and buried it deep into the trash where I thought no one would find it.

My mom discovered what I had done a little while later, of course.

“You could have washed it off! It’s just slime. You didn’t have to cut it!”

My mouth fell open and I felt the distress creep back in, heavier this time.

She was telling me that there was another option, one that didn’t take self sacrifice and time and patience and a laugh at the barber.

I guess when you find out that there was another option, the difficult choice you made feels all the more bitter.