The Mother Load

I'm doing things a little differently today.  Instead of a YouTube video filled with music or kittens or questionable decisions, I have decided you need to see something a little closer to home.  My home, to be more specific.  My bathroom, if you want to get technical.

The video I would have shown you has been postponed until next week, and in its place, I submit to my readers and fans a true story.  "Haircut: A Story of Hope."


It was late October, 2010. Hard times had come upon the Clark household. Richard's usually loyal and hardworking hairdresser had shirked her hairdressing duties for an appallingly long time. Hair grew from his scalp like a tangled forest of overgrown shrubs and threatened the back of his neck, dark brown tentacles reaching ever closer to his shoulders.



Day after hairy day, Richard remained optimistic. His hairdresser had always come through for him before. Surely she would find the time to rid him of this vile nest atop his head. Maybe it would be today...or...today...or...today. Weeks had gone by, and the smile had begun to waver. A few weeks more, and he had begun to harbor thoughts of firing his absent hairdresser.

"You know," he said to her on the evening of the 26th, "I could just pop on over to Super Cuts..." Her look of alarm silenced him momentarily.  Richard then apologized for having entertained such a thought and accepted her promise that the haircut would occur that very night, no matter what obstacles she might face.

A more unforgiving man might have laughed at her promise and left her for a hot pair of scissors at a salon, but Richard was moved by the earnestness of this woman and vowed he would give her one more chance.



The fact that she was cute and in the habit of preparing him his favorite foods for dinner may have influenced his decision somewhat.



Kissing may also have been a factor.




Whatever the case, Richard chose to stay at home and wait patiently for her in the appointed place.  He felt the stirrings of hope within his chest as she finished her night's work and descended the stairs into the lower floor of their home.  This was it!  He would be burdened by the weight of his hair no longer!



The cheery buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz of Sarah's clippers was sweet music to Richard's ears, and he felt his soul lift and lighten as tufts of hair, so much hair, found their way to the floor beneath his feet.  This was the feeling of life! This was the feeling of FREEDOM!



About halfway through the haircut, Sarah stopped and surveyed her work.  "You know," she said, thoughtfully, "if we stopped here, you'd look like almost every boy I went to high school with.  90s hair is bound to make a comeback within the next few years.  Want to get a jump on it?  I could leave it like this..."



Richard replied that he would give the matter deep thought and get back to her the next time she cut his hair.  For now, he preferred her to plow on ahead.  And plow she did, removing layer after layer of stubborn hair from his head.



The most stubborn of this hair resided in the Cowlick of Lost Dreams and Many Tears, but Sarah persevered, battling the hair demon with her Clippers of Destiny until it was no more.



And then, just as soon as it had begun, the haircut was over.  Richard, emboldened by his new look, adopted his most sultry expression and asked Sarah if there might be anything he could do to repay this generous favor. His eyebrows waggled provocatively, the corners of his mouth turning up in a scandalous manner.

Sarah, her eyes twinkling, smiled back and said, "Hot chocolate sounds lovely."



"SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!"