Updated: May 27, 2020
So here we are, still stuck at home. Can’t go to the gym, can’t go to the post office, and worst of all, can’t go to the hairdresser. I offered to bribe Nancy, my hairdresser to come to the house and cut our hair but she said she could lose her license and pay a hefty fine. I told her I wouldn’t squeal, but she’s a law-abiding type and she won’t come. Fortunately, I stopped coloring my hair a couple of years ago, so I don’t have that Morticia stripe that several of my friends say they’re growing.
But Terry was beginning to look like Leopold Stowkowski in his later years with his flowing, white mane, so I decided to give him a him a haircut. After all, I’m the daughter of a hairdresser and I watched her cut hair for years. How hard could it be? And it’s probably in the genes, right?
I located a pair of scissors—the ones I use to trim roses, so maybe not truly sharp, but they’d have to do. I wrapped a towel around his shoulders and ensconced him on the patio. Then, feeling very professional with comb in one hand and scissors in the other, I began snipping away. I learned a couple of things in the process. Never say, “Oops!” when you’re giving a haircut. It causes a marked degree of discomfiture in the client when you do. Also, never, never, ever laugh! But I couldn’t help it. And I couldn’t stop!
Luckily, we’re still to be on lockdown for another couple of weeks or so and that should give that near bald spot time to grow out. Also, the part where I couldn’t get the sides to match so I kept snipping bits to try to even it up, but I couldn’t get them even. If he tilts his head ever so slightly to the left, it doesn’t look too bad. Or won’t when It grows out a bit. Also, fortunately he’s really nearsighted and his glasses are due to be replaced so he can’t appreciate the full extent of my butchery.
I felt kind of sorry for him, so I made him his favorite meal. I miraculously had some frozen shrimp left in the freezer and this could not be easier to put together. Also, it made him happy and his delighted smile detracted from his otherwise raffish appearance.
Bad Haircut Shrimp and Peas
1 cup rice. Or you can use one of those great packets of precooked rice blends, which is what I did.
¼ to ½ cup McCormick Golden Dipt Lemon Butter Dill Sauce (I always have it on hand).
Couple of handfuls of frozen shrimp. I’d be more specific, but it depends on the size of the shrimp.
Cup of frozen peas
Cook the rice if you’re cooking it—heat up the packet in the microwave for 90 seconds if you’re using a packet. Pour the Lemon/Butter sauce in skillet and turn heat to medium. Dump in the shrimp and let cook just to thaw and warm up shrimp, then add peas for another couple of minutes. Pour shrimp/pea mixture over rice and serve. Serves 2.
Perhaps the “genes” I inherited from my mother were Jeans. Her name was Jean.