Sampson and Delilah

New Years Eve is over. Resolutions are made. Many are already broken while others still shine like a beacon, beckoning us onward and upward on our path to success, fulfillment and the achievement of our dreams.

My first experience at setting goals was in grade seven. It was Canada’s Centennial Year and my friend Myrna and I set one humdinger of a goal. It was uplifting, totally inspirational and satisfied our thirst for accomplishment.

Our worthy goal was to run through every sprinkler we came to on our way to and from school.

O.K it was probably the dumbest goal ever set on the planet. That is until I learned Garrets goal for 2011.

We were sitting in Church when I happened to look at Garret, and noticed that not only did his hair look like he just got out of bed but it was getting long.

Now I realize the ‘just got out of bed’ look is supposed to be cool but I also know that most people actually work on getting their hair to look like that and at least they comb it up into some sort of perceived work of art.

Garret however, just gets out of bed and calls it a masterpiece. He doesn’t seem to care if everyone can tell exactly which spot he rubbed is head on all night. So what if a feather or two happens to stick, it’s a decoration. I still haven’t figured which genetic branch of the tree he fell from.

My shredded pride compelled me to say something. Since I lost the combing battle years ago I tried my hand at gently dealing with the length. I leaned over and quietly asked, “Garret don’t you think you need a hair cut?”

He looked at me, his face glowing with laughter. “Steve and I have a New Years resolution. We are going to Sampsonize ourselves and grow our hair out.”

Well, that was enough to throw my stomach into my throat and make me gasp for breath. It's not that long hair is such a shocking thing but Garret’s hair doesn't get long. It gets wide, thick and poofs on his head, like Marg Simpson with an afro.

My sharp intake of air caused my oldest son Jason to lean over to console me.

“It could be worse mom. He could Sampsonize himself by killing people with the jawbone of an ass.”

He had a point. Hmm, I wonder where I might pick up a jawbone of my own. Suddenly I remembered the rest of the story. I felt a Delilah rush coming on.

I had my New Year’s resolution. I’ll be sharpening my scissors.


Jenica said...

hahahahaha garret told me about this a couple weeks ago...i had the same thought when he sent me a picture the other day and his poof ontop of his head started to grow in quite a not so nice way. please get him to the barber stat!

Joan Sowards said...

I have sons just like that, one that took pride in how long he could go without combing his hair. I hope he's over it because now he's on a mission!

Jane Isfeld Still said...

DON'T Bet on it Joan. My son has been back for 5 years. I think he is kind of regretting his decision. Who knows maybe I'll discover he does care a little. LOL

kbrebes said...


Connie said...

Great picture you conjured up in my head. Reminds me of my husband back in the seventies when long hair was the 'thing' to do. He also has hair that does not grow down, but out instead, and it was bright red to boot. The pictures from back then have come back to haunt him. Maybe Garrett needs someone to take photo's along the way to document his resolution.

By the way, check out my blog on Monday morning (Jan 17). I will be posting about your book along with my giveaway.


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