When Nathan and I first married I discovered, somewhat to my dismay, that this charismatic and eccentric young man who seemed so differently and charmingly wired was also a stamp collector. Stamp collecting had always seemed to me to be a strangely tedious pass time for the creatively challenged. But his interest in philately would soon turn to my advantage.

In the flotsam and jetsom of things that came with us to our first home together was a stamp collection that was in my possession. How I obtained it I’m still unsure but it became quite apparent that Nathan coveted it. It was at this point that I offered him a deal.

“I will trade this stamp collection for the rights to your hair – in perpetuity.’ He enthusiastically agreed.

The deal had portents of Samson and Delilah.

In 2009 I decided he should have long hair. He has a lot of hair and it grows thick and fast, so I watched it edge down past his ears and on to his shoulders. I liked the way it looked. I also liked the leverage I had to render him ‘temporarily unavailable’ for responsible church service while we were busy with four toddlers. Nathan didn’t seem to mind the long hair and the newly acquired outlier status a bit. If it had pained him I would have relented but he seemed to enjoy his long locks – running his fingers appreciatively through them, acquiring a seductive toss and flick of the head that could have earned him a cover shot on a romance novel.

Our new stake president cornered me one day and said, “You should get Nathan to cut his hair. I would love him for the High Council but his hair length precludes him from service.”

“Aaah President,” I responded. “I have a question for you. Would you rather Nathan and I had a good sex life, or that he served on the High Council? The fact is, I find his hair very attractive – if you know what I mean.”

He fell backwards somewhat, blustered something about shaving…and he was gone. The question was never raised again.