Mr. Weasel's crazy and hectic schedule is starting to affect his brain function. This past weekend he had an epiphany - walking across the street for a haircut every few weeks was too taxing of his time and that I should take the clippers to his head myself.
I protested with small and inconsequential details such as, I don't know how to cut hair. I may as well been trying to explain to a cranky toddler why fudgesicles aren't a good breakfast choice.
In total loss of his mental faculties, Mr. Weasel threatened that if I wouldn't do it, he was going to do the job himself. I gave in, much like a would do in the toddler/fudgesicle scenario.
Mr. Weasel removed his shirt and took a seat on a kitchen chair. I plugged in the clippers and went straight to work shaking my head the entire time. About half way through this ridiculous lapse in judgment, there were enough large clumps of hair on the floor to build 3 or 4 bionic gray squirrels.
Monkey Weasel (10) entered the kitchen and stood staring slack jawed at the improbable scene before her eyes, "Dad, is Mom shaving your head or your back?!!!!!!". Complete with outrageous and well timed amounts of laughter from 5 innocent Weasel bystanders.
Mr. W's response was a simple and succinct, "Shut up", followed up with, "BTW, WM, I need you to wax my back today too".
Yeppers, this is what life is like on weekends in Weaselville.
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