My Husband's Dirty Little Secret

I can't believe that after nearly 5 years of marriage I have discovered that my husband has been keeping a secret from me. Huge, massive secret with deep, deep repercussions here people! 5 years! Massive Secret! When I think of all he had to do to keep this from me.... I just... I... mind. Boggled.
I was cleaning out our closets, dragging out my maternity wear (why do I have a flowered maternity shirt made for someone carrying triplets? I don't even like flowery stuff. The hell?) when I found it. A little metal lock box.
Sure, I had seen it before but never really thought to much of it. It used to be in with his fire safe and everything in there is designed to put me instantly to sleep so I ignored it. But now? Now it was in the closet. And as anyone with any sense of snoopy-ness knows, things found in closets are always more interesting than things found in fire safes.
He uses the same 'super-secret' code for everything so it was easy to open.
And I did. And before I hear all about how "Invasion of Privacy!", "Boundaries", "Trust!" just shut up and consider that if I hadn't you would not now be privy to this very interesting fact about my husband that was heretofore unknown and it is good. Plus, if he really wanted to keep it a secret, he should have left it in the safe because I... *snore*.....
And he knew I was cleaning out the closet. So.... pppbbffffttt!
Where was I?
Oh yes, Mind. Boggled!
Because there in that little cold gray metal box was a bag. Of hair.

A. Bag. Of. Hair.

People! I live in a house where there is a bag of hair in a lock box!

And then it all sort of started to make sense. At least as much as a bag of hair in a lock box can make sense.
See, my husband has often fondly recalled his early 20's when he had really long hair. Down to his ass long. And how he missed it.
What makes this even better? My husband was a big fan of that unfortunate 80's fashion phenomena known as......
The Mullet.
Business in Front,
Party in the Back Dude.
Yes. The long (down to the ass) hair in the back and the short and spiky on top.
Judging by the length of the hair in this bag, it could be only one thing.
It was held together at the top with a thick hair tie and then carefully wound into this Ziploc bag.
This thing is 15 years old. He has been carrying around a bag of hair for 15 years.
He's moved so many times, twice with me, and everywhere he has gone, so has this bag of hair.
I am completely..... Boggled!
And one hundred percent convinced that it is my duty, my obligation as his wife to mess with his head.
So here's what I'm thinking. I'm going to get my very long hair cut this weekend (please, I've been wanting to do this for awhile and I just have to now!). I am going to ask them to cut it just above a thick hair tie. I am going to place it in a Ziploc bag.
Then I am going to put it in that little metal lock box and not say one damn word.
I will wait until I know that he has checked on his box of hair. I will wait to see if it has been moved.
I wonder if he will freak out. Maybe he'll think his hair has cloned itself? Maybe he will think that perhaps he had another bag of hair that he forgot at some point?
Whatever.
In a few months, I will make a baby ponytail. One tied with a little pink ribbon and put in a sandwich baggie.
One that will maybe make him think that his bags of hair have mated and made baby hair.
Unless you can think of a better way to mess with the mind of a man who has been saving his mullet hair for 15 years.