You Can Call Me Debbie

After over forty years, I did something I haven’t done since I was a child. I got my hair cut short. Now, for most people this is not a big deal, but I wasn’t sure what the repercussions were going to be. I had wanted to make the change for quite some time, but couldn’t imagine what style would best suit me. The other important consideration was how Rick would deal with it. Over the last year or two I had been working on him; preparing him for the time I finally got up the nerve to do it.

I mentioned my plan to a few co-works and even confided in the fact that I was taking a risk because short hair on women had always been an item of controversy. I told them of the time several years back when I dared to cut my hair to shoulder length. It took Rick two weeks to get over it enough to talk to me again. So cutting my hair now before the 3500 mile drive back to Wisconsin could make things pretty uncomfortable or at least very quiet. I was prepared to accept whatever what going to happen.

So what did happen? I didn’t tell anyone I was going to actually do it, but the universe has its own way of working things out. Because it was somewhat spur of the moment, I was placed on a waiting list at my usual salon. In the meantime, I was able to make an appointment at another. Well, there was an opening and because they weren’t able to reach me on my cell, they called Rick’s. That phone call was the universe’s way of providing him a little foresight, so it wouldn’t be a total shock.

I had to pick Rick and Janis up right after I got my haircut. There was an initial disapproving glance then silence that lasted several hours. I had decided to take no offense and let him deal with it however he pleased. After several hours of avoiding eye contact, Rick took the bull by the horns, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, “I know you want me to look at your hairdo. It doesn’t look as bad as I thought it would.”

Needless to say, the years of projected disappointment and utter contempt blew away like dust in the wind. The real surprising thing happened a few days later. Rick took a good long look at me and admitted he liked it and that I looked like a Debbie.

So now I am enjoying the benefits of short hair. It’s easy to wash, style, and cool on the back of the neck. Sometimes, I look a little sporty and I’ve been told it even makes me look a little younger. All in all, I like it, and you can call me Debbie.