Back to dark, moody weather. Apparently it’s warmer that’s why I’m wearing a wooly hat, gloves and 38 layers….
You know your tired when you function without using your brain. You make a drink with the coffee machine but forget to put a cup in the holder. You drop a full toilet roll into the bowl. You put your shirt on inside out and back to front. You give the cat dog food and the dog gets cat food. The washing machine programme settings are several pay grades above your abilities. And you microwave a tub of mint chocolate ice cream rather than a frozen cottage pie.
Yep getting a few of those days recently.
And then I just have to raise the brain fail stakes….
Cutting hair while tired. Starting to trim without putting the No2 guard on. In fact NO guard. End result a rather fashionable shaved area. On the plus side it’s a national lockdown so no-one outside the house is going to see it for weeks. Plenty of time to grow back. And as my parents would say ‘a rider on a passing horse won’t notice..’. They would also say ‘only 2 days between a bad hair cut and a you need to comb your hair cut’ – in this case make that a few weeks…..
The walk across the local farm land always felt like top toeing across a minefield. Constantly looking down at my feet for the myriad little surprises. Cow piles, sheep droppings, mole hills, rabbit holes…. BUT NOW after weeks of walking exactly the same path it’s all changed. Suddenly my brain seems to have mapped out the various dangers. Now I can look up and take in the view. Luckily one view I don’t need to take in is my face. It’s definitely a face fit for radio.
It was Wrestlemania this weekend. It went ahead without a crowd. We now have a tradition in our house that we stay up and watch it live. Have a party and a bit of a challenge. See who is best at predicting the results. Last year my inevitable defeat cost me a painful forfeit. Eating the hottest chilli we could find in the supermarket. My eyes are still watering. This year the stakes were raised significantly…..
With his Aspergers, Son is often a creature of habit. Change is avoided. That includes things like clothes. As he grows out of stuff we need to find larger versions of his existing items. That also applies to me. He doesn’t like me to change. I have wanted to go for a really short hair cut for years. Unfortunately that has never been approved by his Lordship. Until now.
“Ok Dad let’s stake your hair on Wrestlemania. If you win the prediction game then you can have your haircut. But if I win you can’t AND it will cost you your beard.”
Son found some old photos of us as a family of 3 featuring a beardless Dad. I think he secretly wanted me to go back to that look. So Wrestlemania came and went. I gave up counting after Son successfully predicted the first 10 matches and I DIDN’T. The end result – the beard went. I’m not sure I recognise that face in the mirror anymore. Son says I look younger. I’m not sure about that but we can both agree on one thing. It’s still definitely a face best suited to radio.
Stay safe everyone.