Hair of the Dog

This was DAMN hilarious! 

The family 'gossip', also known as my sister, had just called me and passed on a supposed secret which Mom had earlier relayed to her.  Evidently the females in my family are certainly not ones to keep any information too confidential for any extended period of time.

The news was that for the past year or so, our father has been getting his haircuts from one of his old cronies he hangs out with down at the legion.

The funny part is......

The funny part is this old codger who is cutting his hair is a retired  Dog Groomer!  HAHA!!

Yep, Dear old Dad, who is known to be somewhat frugal-minded in general and now more so in his old age, has decided to cut corners even further by having a guy who probably groomed Lassie years ago, cut his hair.

This 'juicy tidbit of information' was far too funny to keep secret and I immediately realized I needed to embarrass Dad with it as soon as humanly possible.

Thankfully I did not have to wait long as I was over there this past weekend for the usual Sunday family dinner and it looked like Dad had been for a recent haircut.  I kept my silence until Mom began serving the apple pie & ice cream for dessert, my fathers' favourite.  It was the perfect moment, it was now 'show time'.

"Hey Dad"  I began slowly.  "Looks like you have a new haircut.  It looks good!"

My father looked over at me and briefly muttered something about getting it cut last week.  His attention then went back to the newspaper, which was folded up on the kitchen table beside him.

I definitely needed to continue.

"I really have to say, that this specific haircut really suits you....it looks grrrrrrreat !"  I remarked, laughingly.

My slow-witted sister began to giggle aloud as even she was able to pick up on my very subtle humorous statement.

Dad once again put down his paper and looked over at me.  He had a rather odd look in his eyes and stated in a matter of fact tone that "Looks no better nor worse then usual, I imagine.  I've had this same cut & style for ages."

"Yeah...err, so Dad"  I continued.  "What exactly would you call the style of this particular haircut of yours?  Would it be the 'Rover' or perhaps, is it the 'Fido'?"

With that statement both myself and my sister burst out laughing.  Dad immediately put down his paper again.  This time there was now a definite fury in his eyes.

"I knew it!"  He began, anger already building in his voice.  "I knew you were 'going on' about something or other in that annoying roundabout manner of yours. Always have something to say.  Someone had to tell you this.  I knew if either of you two found out about it that you would both make a big performance out of it all."

He then turned to Mom and angrily accused her of betraying a family secret.

"Simon"  Mom quickly scolded him back.  "Don't be so ridiculous.  We're all family here, no one else knows about it.  The kids are just teasing you is all. Just having a little laugh."

Dad knew from years of experience that he could not win an argument with Mom, as she always used 'that damn logic', or so Dad refers to it, in all of their arguments.  As such, he turned his anger back towards me.

"There's not a damn thing wrong with it."  Dad retorted, his tone now sounding a little defensive.  "I'm just a poor old pensioner on a fixed income.  I don't have money like you to toss around on these fancy stylists or 'Whatever the Hell' posh title they have given to themselves these days.  I just want a plain old cut and that's what I got.  Old Ben was a men’s barber for years before he and his wife started their dog grooming business.  Nothing wrong with it in the least.  He's a professional."

I was still laughing at the whole situation and certainly could not let it drop this easily.

"No, there's nothing wrong with it at all."  I replied.  "Does he offer you a complimentary 'de-worming' with every cut or do you need to buy some 'flea shampoo' before he will throw that in?  HAHA!"

At this point both Mom and Sis joined in the laughter and ridicule.  It was a hilarious scenario as Dad is usually the 'aggressor' when making fun of people, which is a pastime in which he indulges quite often. 

I could tell this 'taste of his own medicine' was not sitting well with him at all as Dad continued to look enraged and began fidgeting in his chair.

"Yes, Dear"  Mom began laughingly.  "I think the kids might be on to something.  You are actually starting to look a little bit like 'good old Charlie' over there."

Of course Mom was referring to Charlie, my fathers’ elderly & decrepit dog who sleeps approximately 23 hours a day.  The nasty old dog was now laying by the back door, tongue hanging out and drooling all over its' mangy self, as per usual.

"Yep"  I continued.  "They are like twin brothers, if you ask me.  Look almost identical.  It's actually kinda eerie!"

My father just snarled over at me, calling me a 'Smart Ass'.  That was surprisingly his only retort.

I was now on a roll and really needed to continue giving Dad 'the gears'.

"Does this Ben the dog groomer, err, I mean barber, hit you on the nose with a rolled up newspaper if you talk too much"  I asked in my sarcastic tone.

Mom was now placing the dessert plates and napkins in front of all of us at the table. 

It was too late however as Dad quickly stood up, grabbed his paper & was heading towards the front room.

"Simon"  Mom called out behind him.  "Where in the world are you going?  I've just put your favourite dessert on the table."

"AAHH!"  Dad replied, with the wave of his hand.  "I've lost my appetite now with all this foolish talk going on.  Far too much nonsense for me. I'm going to go watch TV in peace & quiet."

As Dad stormed out of the room I quickly looked over & then grabbed his full dessert plate and put it beside my own. 

Damn, I wish I had found out years ago that getting him angry was all it takes for my Dad to leave a nice dessert untouched.  I could've been eating like a king!

I then felt the gaze of both Mom and Sis burning into me as I was in the process of devouring both mine and Dads' desserts.

"No time for talk, don't want to waste food."  I announced in between mouthfuls.  "That would be terrible, just a crime.  I'm sure Dad would've wanted it that way!"

Another perfect evening!