The Haircut

Haircuts and hairdressers are like hen’s teeth these days. I’m getting used to my new flowing locks…

The Haircut

I was in need of a hair cut, just a little light coiffure,
nothing too dramatic, just to look a tad demure.
Hubby to the rescue with the strictest kind of rules,
no undercuts or pompadour or things he may deem cool!

This could prove costly!

The dog and cat were watching, analysing every move,
scrutinizing everything to see if they approved.
It was looking like a theatre, all the instruments in line,
I was posed for the commencement and looked for the first sign.

Off we went

The scissors started snipping and the hair began to fall,
my husband hummed and whistled as I think I can recall.
I warned him to be careful and to take a gentle pace,
he reassured me smiling with genuine true grace.

Leading on

The spectators looked confused now as they watched my falling hair,
but my husband carried on with pride without a wayward care.
Snipping as he whistled and wafting side to side,
our cat and dog got up to leave to disappeared and hide.

And then

Suddenly the cutting stopped and my hubby sucked his teeth,
all around were my fine locks and even underneath.
Suspicious of the silence I needed a quick peep,
My hubby was retreating now before he heard the bleep!!

Eruptions looming

I looked like something alien or the bride of Frankenstein,
eruptions in the living room as I chased the rotten swine.
He offered me a headscarf or the use of his straw hat,
then fled into the garden along with dog and cat!

Later on

I’m wearing a groovy headscarf whilst I swig my glass of gin,
my hubby’s promised something nice and it better be some bling.
The moral of this story is simple and quite plain,
If you trust your hubby with your hair, you really are insane!

His injuries are clearing up quite nicely! 😉

Teresa Harrison-Best
3rd May 2020