After a leisurely breakfast we strolled west on Alvear to see if my favorite barber could give me just a "little" trim. Also we were on a side trip to find a folding table for our living room. Anyway, Diego gathered me in for hugs and kisses. His round face smiles from ear ro ear.
Diego starts the trim and I make the BIG mistake. practicing my spanish I tell him he is an artista. Of course this makes his grin wider and his scissors faster and faster. The trim becomes a cut and the cut gets shorter and shorter. "oh no", I think. The complement was a backfire. Now I have hair sticking up and unmanageable, but...... well, everything here is a drama and an adventure. In 3 weeks I'll look like my "chemo" is over and maybe I'll be ready for another trim with hugs included. We saved the table search for another day.
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