Bald Choice

As I lie/laid/lay/lied (I’m too lazy to look up the correct form) in bed last night, unable to sleep, I started thinking about my favorite TV shows.

Mostly, I was just trying to stop thinking about the fact that Brett has shaved his head. He is now completely bald.

I don’t know why. It’s the onset of winter and people rarely do the head-shaving thing during this time, but Brett is HIS OWN MAN, convention and reason be hanged.

I also didn’t react the way he would have liked.

Which I’m guessing went something like, “Oh my gosh, you’re the most handsome man ever with no hair. You’re like Wentworth Miller and Dominic Purcell all rolled into one. Come here, you hottie, so I can make mad, passionate love to you.”

Instead, I said. “Why did you do that? It looks weird.”

This did not bode well with my husband who apparently believes winter-time head shaving is quite the fashion-forward choice. You know, because he is such a trendsetter.

His bald-headedness disturbs me deeply. But I am nothing if not the dutiful wife, so I’ve started calling him “Bald Eagle” which he apparently loves and believes will make a delightful and patriotic pet name.

I did not like it. In fact, last night I told him I felt like I was making love to a leukemia patient.

“Hi, I’m from the Make a Wish Foundation and…”

It was weird.

Then I woke up in the middle of the night and saw his big white Scandinavian head gleaming the moonlight. For one very scary second, I flashed back to a Criminal Minds where the serial killer du jour kills the husband while he’s sleeping and then takes his place in bed with the wife.

Like I said, scary.

I’ve gotten completely off track, since this was supposed to be about TV shows. Next post, perhaps.

For some reason, I’m now in the mood to watch Kojak reruns.