It was not my intention to have three haircuts in almost as many days. The first was ‘just a tidy up please’. The hairdresser was afflicted with industrial strength lethargy as if he was bored with life entirely. It wasn’t long before I realised he’d made a mess of it and I ended up at another hairdresser’s for a repair job. The second guy worked hard, layering and texturing – I’m learning the jargon.

At least it was even and looked controllable, but by the next day it had become rounded looking and ‘boofy’ which reminded me of the coiffure of Wendolene Ramsbottom in Wallace and Gromit.

I took my mother to the hairdresser at the hospital today and got talking to the hairdresser about my ‘repair job’. She told me to come back after I’d delivered Mum to the ward. Then she set to, fixing what she described as ‘that clown look’ in no time at all.

It feels much better.