Hair chair

I just took part in the time-honored tradition of sitting in a chair in the middle of the kitchen floor getting a haircut from my wife. Actually, it was only a trim. Nevertheless, it delivered the full effect of not being too proud to save a few bucks and still having the privilege of sweeping up my own hair afterwards. Many a husband and son (or daughter?) have shared the sweet spot on the tiled or linoleum floor as tufts, wisps and clumps of hair float down around their ankles. It's oddly meditative. Sitting there, nearly motionless - at first to avoid the accidental earlobe or forehead scissor poke, then to encourage an eventual end to the task as the teacher inevitably loses focus and stamina and seems to just want it to end. At that point the patient - or - harcuteee instinctively adopts the physical attitude of - "please finish off without rushing but don't go too fast, but make it quick for our sanity. I can picture myself in that chair