My Biggest Fear

So there are very few things in life that I totally fear; being tickled, getting mistaken for a member of the Taliban, getting gum on my shoe, the CAT!..... just to name a few. Now granted there are a few other things that I would fear if the odds were better that it could actually become a reality. Like having to fly the space shuttle to an asteroid millions of miles away with a nuclear bomb to save Earth and only having 24 hours to figure it out. OK, so in my mind that's still has a decent chance of happening but there are many others that I would consider more remote and it helps me sleep at night knowing that I don't have to worry about it.

So a few days ago, I was given 24 hours notice that I would have to confront a fear that was buried so deep down that I hardly knew how to react. I'm talking about stuff that they don't even dare make movies about. I spent every bit of effort over those 24 hours to talk my way out of it. I mean, send Bruce Willis and Ben Affleck out there, they have experience with this whole space ship to asteroid and big boom thing.... I've seen them do it! I had every bit of statistical data and a life time of insignificant experiences all pointing to others that would be far more appropriate for the task at hand. But in the end, nothing could help my case. Call it a cruel experiment that could only result in a horrible disaster or worse. Now maybe it could be considered one of those pivotal stages in a marriage where the relationship is tested to its limit and the fellow husbands out there can vouch for how well those turn out.

OK, so after being in Dubai for almost 5 months now, Camille was pushed to the point of desperation with her hair. Her interaction with the salons here in Dubai has been anything but positive so she swore off going to any hair stylist here in the middle east. So what is plan B...... that's right...... the clueless bloke that she's married to. Please keep in mind ladies, this is what not to do. At this stage, it was either a trip to New York City for her or I was going to have to go where no engineer has ever gone before. To top it off, this wasn't just going to be a trim, oh no, it was time for an entirely different hair style that would take her somewhere that she could never get back from. I felt surprisingly more comfortable with my calculator in my pocket but I was still beside myself.

I remember very little of the whole ordeal; just random flashes of the scissors and comb, my feet standing in a pool of long, dark hair. I have been waking up the past few nights in a cold sweat, clinging to my alarm clock. Obviously the most important thing is that Camille is still pretending that she likes the cut but I figure it can't last much longer.

All the evidence she'll ever need of spousal abuse.


All smiles, so far so good.