A letter

a jiggle bed and a hair cut…

In Landing on September 6, 2011 at 5:15 pm

I forgot to tell you several funny stories. Story One: I was trying to take a nap the other day.  David had just left for school, after lunch, and both boys had fallen asleep at the same time.  A complete novelty around here.  It was my chance to nap, also a novelty around here.  I was in heaven.  I hadn’t been laying down more than 15 min when I was slowly shaken from my almost dreamlike state.  In a not so coherent state, I was very out of sorts.  “Had David snuck back in to play a trick on me?” I thought to myself.  He didn’t seem in the mood to be playing a trick, but what else could it be.  I sat up slowly, looked around the bed, but did not find David on hands and knees shaking the bed.  “It must be the neighbors washer, off kilter”, was my next logical thought. Then I reminded myself that their washer isn’t in the master bedroom upstairs.  Well, whatever it was, I was now awake.  Oh well, my glorious nap of fifteen minutes was now over.  On to the next thing.  Soon my phone rang.  “Did I feel the earthquake?” I heard myself repeat.  “Yes, yes I did, I guess”.  Ha!  I should have thought of that. Earthquake Shmirkquake!

Story Two: I was greeted by my dear husband the other day telling me that a classmate of his was coming over for a hair cut on Sunday at 5pm.  Now, I do cut hair as you know, and have cut quite a few hairs for being a un-trained snipper.  Having said that, guy hair cuts are a rarity and something reserved for someone I know quite well.  Not only must I know them quite well, but this individual must also meet the criteria of being someone whose life would not be ruined, if a hair cut were to go awry.  This so called classmate didn’t meet either of these criteria. David thought it was an easy way to earn some extra money and for a half an hours time, no big deal.  O Joy.   David convinced me that he was not a picky guy and that I would do a great job.  I was not so sure of this.  Let me preface, that our clippers, are as dull as a plastic disposable knife and successfully cut 3 hairs at a time.  When my “client” walked in with a head of THICK dark hair I knew I was in for it.  He was from “Luhl Vuhl” Kentucky.  What I have always pronounced, Louisville.  He was a southerner for sure.  He let me know he used to get a “high and tight”, (I just nodded, assuming that meant a military cut) but that he was thinking of maybe a 4 for now on the sides and in the back.  To sum the story up, my poor “client” was sweating to death under my old sheet drapery, complete with a clothes pin clasp.  Poor client.  This 1/2 hour cut turned into an hour and ten minute cut, the entire head, might I add, (a 4 on the back and sides, to remind you) by hand, due to our clippers failing their function.  I was nervous as can be.  He said he liked the hair cut, but we don’t know him at all.  He may have just been giving Southern compliments.  It’s hard to tell.  I guess we will find out if he really liked it when he asks for a hair cut again. I may not oblige anyhow, we will see.  I do get to go to coffee a few times this week, which is wonderful, and I have successfully (fingers crossed) given the most difficult hair cut I have ever given up to this point.  Phew.  David is rethinking his eager volunteering of my hair cutting skills.  He is realizing that his time is precious and that the hour and ten minutes of children watching whilst I was giving the hair cut, is a lot of study time that he waved goodbye to.  I am re-thinking getting new clippers.  Both are good thoughts.

You have to smile,

Bep

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