Thursday, December 29, 2011

The Cowboy Gets A Haircut

"What do you think you're doin' with those clippers, Partner?"
Morning Readers,

     Before we get started, a brief word from our sponsors....     

Nog:
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Nog.... Because no one's quite sure what's in there. Have you Nogged today?
     Thanks, Nog. Now then, where we? Oh yes. Before Christmas, things around here were getting pretty shaggy. Husband and I have been very thankful Sundance has spent the last several months growing a respectable ponytail, but Butch, having absolutely no problem in that area, has spent the better part of the last year growing a mop on his head.

     Things had started getting ridiculous. More than once, I'd been sweeping and tried to whisk the poor baby into the dust pan. "Get in there, you stubborn little hairball. Stop climbing out of the dustpan." I'd say. 

     Not till I heard a very stern, "Ma", did I gingerly help him hop back out.
     
     "Maybe you should ask your mother for a haircut, whoever she is, and misunderstandings like this wouldn't happen," I warned.  The next day, his birth certificate was set out were I'd sweep it up. "Well, I'll be." I said, turning it over. "Says here, I'm your mother. Sorry about that."

     One night, I sighed and looked at Husband. "You know, I remember we used to have a son."     

     "We do have a son. He's the little haystack going through your purse. See? Just there to your right?"

     "Oh yes, that Chia Pet's been following me around, all day, asking for cookies and "ju"....whatever that is. I'm fairly sure it's saying "juice", but the language barrier's been atrocious."

     "That's our son."
   
     "Not a Chia Pet? Hmm...that explains why he's been fighting the daily waterings."

     The next day, Husband lugged home a bag of supplies, and pointed wildly at me. "Sit the boy down. It's time for a haircut, and I'm going to be the one to do it."

     I hugged the Chia Pet closer. "But, you don't know how to cut hair."

     "Never fear...I You Tubed it."

     I nodded. "Why didn't you say so, before? I'll get a towel and hold him still."
     After a few unsteady cuts, Husband managing to maim his own finger, and lots of yelling, "Hold him still. Hold him still, this part's higher than the other. If you really loved me, you'd be holding him still, Husband whirled Butch around. 

     We stared, open-mouthed. I found Husband's hand. "By Thor's hammer.....he looks...he looks like a tiny Paul Newman. Why...he's beautiful.  Squatting down, I squared with Butch. "Fat baby, did you know you were this handsome, all the time?"   

    He patted my face and smiled. "Ma..cookie?"

Any good first haircut....or bad haircut stories you'd like to share?

Until Next Time, Readers!