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My wife Michelle is a hairdresser and has a salon set up at home. We went for neighborhood drinks one afternoon and the partying went well into the night. After Michelle passed out on a neighbors couch I woke her and we walked home in the rain.We were drenched and Michelle passed out again face down across our bed. I dried myself, put on a robe and decided to dry her shoulder length platinum blonde hair with a brush and hair dryer before putting her into the bed. I dried it off and as I was brushing her hair to tie it up on top of her head (like she always slept with it), I thought of a game we play.Michelle cuts my hair in a crewcut with clippers. We often played a game where I would stand up and say "Your turn". Michelle would sit down and I would pretend to give her a crewcut. She would often say "I dare you". The game always stopped at that point because I always chickened out.With bravado from the alcohol I had a sudden impulse. I went to the salon and brought back the clippers and plugged them into the power point beside the bed. I sat on the side of the bed and brushed her hair up over her head. I wondered what it would look like if it was short like mine. I switched the clippers and sat for a while with them vibrating in my hand. Michelle was sound asleep and didn't even flinch as I placed them gently on the base of her neck. Holding her hair up, I pushed the clippers slowly up the back of her head through her hair all the way to her forehead. Once I started I just kept going, turning her head to one side and then the other and gently running the clippers through her hair until it was all cut off and crewcut the same as mine.The shock of what I had done then hit me and I decided to try and cover up. I gathered up her hair, took it to the salon, scattered it around the salon chair and put the dryer and clippers back in place. I slipped quietly into bed and pulled up the covers.In the morning, I was awakened by a shriek from our bathroom. Michelle ran out to me and through the tears asked me what had happened the night before. The last thing she remembered was being at our neighbor's house. I told her we were both very drunk and wet when we came home and she sat in the salon while I dried her hair. "Remember, we started to play the game with the clippers and you dared me again", I said? "I don't even remember coming home", she said. I walked her through to the salon, showing her the hair on the floor. "See, we did it this time", I said. She sat down and looked in the mirror, cried for quite a while and then said "When I dared you before, I never thought you would be game enough to do it". I felt so bad.Michelle told her clients that she had wanted a change and kept variations of her new hairstyle for about nine months. I couldn't believe that I got away with the deception. I could never bring myself to tell her the truth. Too chicken I guess.
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