"When I was young and stupid my maternal grandparents lived with us for many years. I was very close to them and thrilled to have them around. One day, my youth and stupidity gave birth to the genius idea that I should give my grandma a haircut. I asked. She obliged. I was old enough to be able to use scissors unsupervised, but too young to know this was a terrible idea. She probably knew but indulged me anyway. And so I found myself snipping away at the ends of her hair, excited by my new project. I was proud of myself and stepped back to survey the results. It was neat, but askew. One side was definitely longer than the other. But that was something that could easily be fixed, so I went back for round two. I fixed it all right. It was now askew from the other end. I can’t remember how many tries it took me, but I finally got it right. Her hair was straight from the ends, but my 80-something year old grandma now had a very un-chic lob well before lobs were fashionable. I was upset because I had let her down so fantastically. She just smiled and said it was okay. I have so many memories of my grandma, but this one is my favourite. If she was unhappy with the haircut, she didn’t show it. She put her hair back in a clip and went about her usual business. But I haven’t cut anybody else’s hair since."
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