Me, bald. And as Bane.
My hair started falling out last Thursday morning—the day after Sara's birthday. Apparently it wanted to make sure it had a chance to celebrate her birthday, too.
Becoming a 6 foot tall shedding dog isn't much fun. The hair goes everywhere—your food, your face, in your mouth, your desk. It covers the shower floor. It covers every room in the house.
It covers everything.
We tried buzzing my head down again, much shorter than the first time around, but it didn't even slow the shedding down.
So, yesterday I shaved it all off.
Here's me with my new super-shiny reflective bald head:
And, of course, here's me as Bane. Because, well:
Why did I even do that. I don't know, but you can too.
Anyway, about shaving my head: I was astounded to learn that, while much more time-consuming, I had a significantly easier time shaving my entire head (even the parts I can't see) than I do shaving my face. And I cut myself a lot less.
Which maybe just says more about me than anything else.
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