I sat in our flat, recounting the scraps of money I had. Christmas was tomorrow, and I had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim, my husband, a present.
I went out and sold what was most precious to me, my hair. I had finally amassed enough to buy Jim a decent present.
I finally found the perfect gift for him. I gladly handed over the money and headed home, worry of what he would think filling my head.
Back at home, I prepared for Jim's arrival. I was worried for what he would think of what I had done to my hair. But I knew all along that he would thoroughly enjoy the gift I had gotten him.
Once Jim arrived, he made no comment about my obvious lack of hair. He explained how he had sold his watch for the present he had gotten me: The Combs. I explained in return how I had sold my hair for a fob for his watch.
I asked him about my decision to sell my hair. "No haircut would make me like my girl any less," was his response.