On Tuesday I sent Mr. Bernie to get his hair cut. He looked like a homeless person. Long and Shaggy. I reminded him that the 70′s called and they want their hair back. This is something I have been strongly suggesting for a couple weeks. He finally agreed. Mr. Bernie loaded up the dog and headed off to get all pretty.
When he returned about an hour later, his hair had not been cut. Lets say I was highly annoyed. I asked him why he still looked homeless. He replied, “You can’t yell at me.” Which of course gave me a good head of steam. “You have been gone long enough to get your hair cut. Did you just drive by and wave??” His lower lip quivered and he replied, “You can’t yell at me. I have a note.” He then handed me this note from his hair stylist:
I laughed so hard I was almost crying. He said, “When I got up to the place she was walking out the door. She started apologizing that she couldn’t cut my hair. Something about a car she was selling. I was sad and gave her my puppy dog eyes. I told her that Bernadette is not going to be very happy, but that is ok, I didn’t want to get my hair cut today anyway. She offered to give me a note. I perked up at this and said, You could??! That would be great. She wrote the note and told me she could squeeze me in tomorrow. I told her that you were going to yell at me. She told me that you were nice and would not yell at me. I told her that she didn’t know you well. Then I thanked her for the note and got my oil changed. Now I am home and you can’t yell at me.” The smirk he had was pretty smarmy.
When he got home, I asked him if she noticed. He was disappointed and told me that he had to point it out to her. She unpinned it and put it on her station to read later.
Now Mr. Bernie is handsome once again.
I wonder who his next note will be from?