Father, mother, and daughter get shaved

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Note: Have you ever noticed that when we get right down to it, we are all the same.

This is the story of the Maple’s, a family who are now regulars in my shop.They moved to town from up north or down south: I forgot which.It was and is a pleasure to serve them.

Martha, the wife to Paul and mother to Marigold, she has a calm attitude and is witty with a joke or two. Her smile is as wide as the crescent moon and she has two dimples to give an even more cute look. I think it was her idea that her family should come to me.

Paul, big, strong man about 6ft, he is a jolly natured man and I wouldn’t doubt it that he could bench a million pounds. His eyes are bright but I can tell he has been through a lot. He is one of the proudest customers I have had in an age.

Marigold, the eight year old that can still make me smile, every time she comes in, she lights up the room even if I dimmed the lights. She’s just a bundle of joy, quite literally, her smile matched her folks. Her hair was a virgin to a haircut in a barbershop.

They all needed haircuts that day, it was long and unkempt. Paul had a beard all the way down to the floor. Martha and Marigold had long hair that they molded into a giant bun on their heads. It was my lucky day.

”We are all getting the same haircut”,Paul told me as I took him back to the leather-bound chairs as his wife and daughter took a seat at the front of the shop. I asked him to what was that. He smiled and answered,”We want a shave”

”Alright”, I replied as I took up a cape and wrapped him in it. Right, left, crown, and face; I left no hair on his head of face. I asked him about the eyebrows and replied,”Shave mine, my wife can choose for herself and our daughter”

I obliged him and left his head soft and smooth, no pesky hair left on him. He praised my work and I released him from the chair. My broom had to sweep up the mountain of hair left on the ground. When I was done, Martha and her girl came to the chair.

Paul held their kid as Martha stepped into the chair. I caped her and she asked me,”Can Marigold sit on my lap and have her head shaven?”

I shrugged,”Sure”

Martha smiled and held out her arms for her girl.Paul handed over the little one to her mother. She looked about the shop innocently.Another cape was thrown on her.

I took up my sharp shears and severed their buns from their heads. My clippers went for Marigold first, buzzing her down with quick swipes.Her mother felt the short stubble lovingly. Her father helped to hold her head in place as a used a safety razor to remove the remaining stubble.

Martha was next. She was quite happy to lose it all.Her hand rubbed her own head with a loving aura.When I had finished shaving her head, I repeated my query about the brows.

”You may shave them off”,she said,”And tidy up Marigold’s”

I did as I was told, shaving hers and only tidying up her daughter’s.

 

 

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