I tried to do something nice. I grew my hair long so that I could cut it off and donate it. Well, all went as planned. I held out and kept growing it out so that it was a relief when it was all lopped off.
Things were going great. I even had that warm glow of an altruistic feeling. That is until I heard my dog, Little John, in the other room. He came tearing around the corner with a shredded braid of recently cut hair trailing on either side of his face like a long brown mustache.