I Clean up Real Nicely

I cut my hair. More accurately, Bob cuts it. He massages my scalp. He wraps a hot towel around my face. It smells like mint and, oooh, is that a hint of eucalyptus? It’s lovely, Bob. Back at home, feeling good about things, I trim my beard and nose hair. Oooh, that’s a long one. That one starts in the nose and goes all through my beard, winding in and out, up and down my chin, ear to ear, and curling back again to rest on my upper lip. That should be in the record books. I hate to cut that one. I should win a prize for that. First prize. Do they give prizes for these things, because they should. I’m just a really special person, and that hair confirms it.