… Which, unfortunately, yielded more photos than words.

View the second photo larger on black.

I cut Gil’s hair today. As thrilled as I am at the money-saving potential of this newly-learned ability (especially considering how quickly the man’s hair grows), I have inadvertently discovered that hair-cutting is a terrible task for a woman with even mildly obsessive compulsive tendencies.

Here’s how it went down:

Erin: “Okay, let’s go cut your hair!”

Gil: “Yay!”

Elapsed time: 10 minutes

Gil: “Are you done yet?”

Erin: “Shh.”

Even. Must make it even.

Elapsed time: 20 minutes

Gil (with growing frustration): “Unngghh!”

Erin: “Hold still! I’m almost done!”

Even. EVEN. EVEN!!

Elapsed time: 40 minutes

Gil: *Weeps silently.*

Erin: *Keeps snip-snip-snipping. Her eye twitches. She is blind to everything except the giant, sneering, uneven haircut in front of her.*

_____

Furthermore, this neurosis has gone ahead and extended itself to everything I see today, as evidenced by the fact that I am sitting here on my parents’ front porch trying to write my thesis and all I can think about is how much I’d like to take some giant scissors to the uneven patches of grass on their lawn.

I’d snip those bits there… and those there…

And those ones over there…

Me (in reference to my continued frustration with trying to write my thesis): “It’s kind of like giving birth… except it’s the kind of giving birth where you’re afraid it might turn out to be an alien.”

*Pause*

Gil: “I’m an alien.”

“What?”

“All of my children will be lizards.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. Years from now when you have lizard babies you’ll remember this conversation.”

… does not mean it is not toil; that life is toil does not mean it is not beauty.”

-  Anonymous

Today at Shutter Sisters, they’ve asked readers to share either photos that remind them of their childhood, or photos from their childhood. This assignment reminded me of a coincidence that a friend of mine pointed out recently.

Here’s me, five years old, already displaying an entrepreneurial and somewhat idealistic spirit (not to mention a love of purple):

Here’s me and Gil, in one of my favorite photos from our lovely engagement session this February:

(Photo copyright Brandon Schmidt of Foto Vitae.)

Sixteen years apart—same girl, same table. What a visible reminder of the change that happens in such a short period of time.

(For the record: thanks in large part, I assume, to that giant purple hat, my “picture” business was actually quite successful. Most people who stopped paid me more than ten cents, and I’m pretty sure the mailman left me with a dollar and the picture he had paid for. I distinctly remember the satisfaction with which I subsequently purchased those roller blades I wanted so badly. Ten points for five-year-old Erin!)