College man came home last night and a miracle happened. He asked for a hair cut. Praise the Lord! He went to a private academy kindergarten through 12th grade and had to be neat and uniformed the whole thirteen years. So he was expressing his freedom this year, trying a different look with his hair and clothes. When he was leaving to go back to school last weekend, after Easter break, he put his favorite hat on – or he tried to. The little newsboy cap just would not sit securely over his brown ringlets. College man checked his reflection in his truck window and laughed as he flipped his curls around.
“Maybe next week you could give me a haircut,” he said.
Now, I have suggested he get a haircut or at least a trim many times over the last year, but he would just smile and brush off my coaxing. I quit asking and really didn’t think he was serious. So, I was surprised when he got up this morning and pointed to his fluffy head and said, ” You ready? You got time to cut my hair?”
“Now, you remember, I only know how to do one kind of haircut,” I answered.
“Yeah,” he replied with a smile and nod. “Buzz it.”
Okie dokie, off to the kitchen we went. Chair in the middle of the floor, clippers primed and ready.
Do you see the pictures on the refrigerator? Family members have given my mother pictures of their kids and grandkids for decades. A family album on the frig front. Grandkids and great-grands have gifted her with artwork, too. Evidence that the kitchen is the heart of the home.
Blessings from the Exile’s Kitchen.