Many people fear going to the dentist. Not me. When I go to the dentist it means I have good healthcare coverage and I’ll get to say “Bubblegum!” when they ask me which flavor of that foamy stuff I’d like. If I’m good I’ll also get to grab a souvenir from the toy chest.

Dentists don’t frighten me. But I get why they would scare others. The way many feel about dentists is the way I feel about barbers.

I’m not sure exactly what childhood trauma scarred me into hating haircuts. I do remember thinking one barber cut my ear, but know for a fact he did not. Perhaps it’s my fear of this possibility that scares me. Ears seems so easy to cut off that one slip could end normalcy.

I never liked getting my haircut as a kid. Barbers are too chatty. The ones at the unisex shops aren’t any better. They constantly spritz water into your face like some weak money shot conclusion. I hate getting water in my eyes. I already have beautiful blue ones that look like the ocean. Add more water and BOOM it’s high tide and the coasts are wiped out.

Despite my haircut reluctance, I have gotten three recently. One was pre-wedding and cost $25. Jenny showed him a picture of actor Will Arnett which I still find amusing because nobody has ever asked for a haircut styled like his.

My most recent haircuts didn’t cost me anything. As a reward I actually gained a very happy wife.

Jenny was the latest barber who trimmed my hair. While I was confident she’d do a good job, it frightened me that she said she was nervous. Jenny preserved and ultimately did a great job cleaning up my untamed hair best suited for a taint. She did it again a month later as I promised she could give me a trim on the first Saturday of every month. Jenny did an even better job the second time around and I think it’s because we listened to Veggie Tales while it happened.

Before Jenny, my hair would get cut about every 8-9 months and by me in the kitchen whilst leaning over the trash can. As much as I hate to say it, I love this arrangement a lot more. Jenny is an artist and having her cut my hair makes me feel like a less gender neutral version of the Mona Lisa. Plus, she hates small talk as much as I do if not more. All we have to do is find a nice playlist and she gets grooving on my hair.