Theobald
“Hello, Uncle Bobby,” Helga and Jack said as Uncle Bobby patted little Robbie’s head.
“Come in,” he replied warmly. “Your mother has a surprise for you.”
“A surprise for us? On her birthday?” Helga asked, intrigued.
“You’ll see,” he answered with a smile.
Though he wasn’t really Helga’s uncle—he was her mother’s stepbrother—he had become a part of the family. After Helga’s father passed away and Bobby went through a difficult divorce, he moved in with his stepsister, partly for financial support and partly for companionship.
Helga’s mother stood waiting in the lounge, a mischievous smile on her face.
“What happened to your hair?” Helga shrieked, her eyes wide in shock.
“What hair?” her mother asked, feigning innocence.
“Exactly!” Helga exclaimed. “What have you done? You are bald!”
“Shaved it all off,” her mother replied with a shrug.
Jack stared in disbelief. “A bit drastic, don’t you think?” he said, surprised at what his usually calm and sensible mother-in-law had done. She was standing there, Make up expertly applied, and a bit more emphasised than they had been used to. Her eye shadow was more pronounced and her eyebrows seemed darker. It night have been their imagination or the impression given by the absence of any hair. Her lips and nails were a startling red which highlighted her shaven image, especially when she rubbed her hand over her head for emphasis, the dark red nails contrasting sharply with her white scalp.
“Oh, it’s a long story,” she laughed. “Just a 56th-birthday gift to myself. But come in, get comfortable—I’ll grab some refreshments.”
After everyone settled in, Helga pressed, “Come on, Mom. What’s this all about? This is so unlike you!”
Her mother chuckled as she scooped up little Robbie. He squinted, trying to recognize the familiar face beneath the new look. Finally, he giggled and reached up to pat her smooth scalp.
“You look funny, Gwanny,” he said, laughing as he ran his tiny hands over her head, fascinated by the feel of it.
“Settle down, and I’ll let Robby tell you the story,” Helga’s mother said with a grin. “This is all his fault, after all—he started it.”
Helga and Jack turned to Robby, puzzled, wondering how he could possibly be behind this surprise.
Robby chuckled and began, “Alright, here goes. When my dad married your mom, I was five, and she was just three. My dad always had a big, scruffy beard. Mom tolerated it for a while, but eventually, she bought him a set of clippers and insisted he keep it trimmed. He reluctantly agreed.”
“One Saturday afternoon, while they had visitors over, we were left to amuse ourselves around the house. Bored and curious, I found Dad’s clippers. An idea hit me: Barber Shop. So, I plugged them in, turned them on, and persuaded your mom to be my first client.”
He laughed, looking at Helga and Jack, who were listening intently. “Let’s just say I got a bit carried away. I managed to shave a few ‘paths’ across her head—not exactly professional work. Actually, it was a bit more than a few paths.”
Helga’s mother chuckled. “I looked like a little lawn mower had gone wild.”
Robby continued, grinning. “Your mom then said it was her turn. Soon, I had a matching ‘haircut’!”
“When our parents discovered us with our new hairstyles after the guests had left, they weren’t angry at all. In fact, they found the whole thing pretty amusing,” Robby continued with a grin. “But there was only one solution for our new looks: they had to cut all our hair off, as close as the clippers would go because we both had near bald patches all over.”
“Not a big deal for a boy,” he added, shrugging, “and even for a three-year-old girl, it wasn’t much of a problem. Funny enough, your Mom loved her ultra-short cut, even at that young age. About a year later, she actually asked her mom to cut her hair short again!”
Helga’s mother laughed. “I don’t really remember much of that day,” she said. “Evidently my mom agreed, but insisted it not be quite as drastic this time. So, I got a cut with the number two guard instead.”
Jack chuckled, imagining the two little kids and their close-cropped haircuts. Helga just shook her head, bemused at this newfound piece of family history.
Sipping his drink, Bobby continued with a smile. “It didn’t end there, you know. Just before her sixth birthday, Mom was asked what she wanted as a gift. To everyone’s surprise, she emphatically declared she wanted her head shaved bald—completely smooth.”
Helga and Jack exchanged incredulous looks as Bobby continued. “Naturally, our parents were shocked and asked if she was absolutely sure. And she was. She told them, ‘Not like last time. I want it shaved like Mr. Tommy next door.’ Now, Mr. Tommy was bald and kept his head smoothly shaved all the time. She wanted exactly that look.”
Helga’s mother laughed, shaking her head. “Her request was, of course, refused at first, but she wouldn’t let it go. She kept insisting. She even argued that she’d be starting school the next year, and this was her last chance to experience what it would feel like to have no hair at all. She’d been dreaming of it, she said, and it was all she wanted for her birthday.”
“After her birthday party, once all the other kids had left, your mother was seated in the kitchen, and a large towel was draped around her shoulders,” Bobby continued, his eyes distant with the memory. “Our parents asked her several more times if she was really sure about this, until she started to get annoyed. Finally, Dad picked up the clippers, and without any more questions, he ran them right through her hair—again and again.”
He chuckled. “You can’t imagine the smile on her face; I can still see it clearly. She was absolutely beaming. Once her head was completely cleared of hair, Dad lathered her scalp with shaving foam and went to work with the razor.”
Bobby leaned forward, grinning. “I was mesmerized, watching as my little stepsister transformed into a ‘baldy.’ Your Mom, meanwhile, was so thrilled she could hardly sit still, and Dad had to calm her down several times to keep her from being nicked as he carefully scraped away the last bits of stubble.”
Helga’s mother continued, rubbing her hand over her smooth scalp as she reminisced. “It was thrilling, feeling the razor glide over my head,” she said softly. “I don’t have many memories from that age, but the experience of becoming bald, of having my greatest wish fulfilled, is etched into my mind as if it happened yesterday.”
She laughed. “I remember mentioning that I’d love to stay like that forever, but our parents were quick to set me straight. They told me this was a one-time-only thing, and I should never expect a repeat.”
She sighed, a trace of nostalgia in her voice. “Of course, my hair grew back all too quickly, and by the time I started school, I had a respectable, ‘normal’ hairstyle. But, as you might recall, I never went back to having long hair.”
“You never asked to be bald again?” Helga asked her mother, surprised.
“Oh, I did,” her mother replied with a smile. “When I was sixteen, a wave of photos featuring bald women started popping up in magazines. Seeing them reignited this long-buried desire to be what I felt was the ‘real me.’ But when I brought it up, my parents made it clear that as long as I was under their roof, that wasn’t going to happen.”
Jack chimed in. “So, the topic never came up again?”
Uncle Bobby shook his head, but Helga’s mother interjected, laughing. “Well, in a way, it did. I was dating a guy named Alex at the time. He was always dropping hints about getting engaged, settling down, and the whole shebang. One day, he actually said, ‘When we’re married, you can grow your hair out to somewhere in the middle of your back,” she laughed, gesturing to a spot below her bra strap.
“So, what did you say?” Helga asked, intrigued.
“I told him in no uncertain terms that I’d rather be bald than have hair that long!” she replied, grinning. “Needless to say, that put a damper on things. He moved on not long after—and, honestly, I couldn’t have been happier about it.”
“So, when you met Dad and married him, you never brought it up again?” Helga asked, curious.
“Well, it did come up—once,” her mother replied. “Our parents happened to mention my little ‘adventure’ on my sixth birthday. And you know how authoritarian your father was, Helga. When we got home, I mentioned it to him, half-jokingly, and he immediately dismissed it, saying it was just a childish whim. He told me no six-year-old could possibly know what she truly wanted and threw around words like ‘nonsense,’ ‘ridiculous,’ and ‘overindulgent parents.’” She smiled wryly. “After that, it was clear there was no point in bringing it up again. But I never let go of my wish to be bald.”
As she spoke, Helga’s mother had unconsciously slipped her hand into Uncle Bobby’s. Helga and Jack exchanged a knowing glance, a silent confirmation of something they had suspected for a while—that the bond between her mother and Uncle Bobby had deepened into something more than simple companionship since he’d moved in with her.
Helga smiled, looking at her mother. “So, on your fifty-sixth birthday, you’re celebrating the anniversary of your first head shave by doing it all over again. And this time, no one’s setting any limits on how long you can stay bald.”
She turned to Uncle Bobby, a playful look in her eyes. “How do you feel about this, Uncle Bobby?”
Realizing her hand was still in his, her mother gently pulled it back and looked at him with a quiet smile.
Uncle Bobby cleared his throat, smiling back. “Well,” he began, “I did shave her head this morning—and she only had to ask once, though we’ve been talking about it for a few weeks now and the idea appealed to me.” He chuckled. “She even bought a fancy Tiklean electric razor online, so we were fully prepared.”
Helga raised an eyebrow, curious. “And you had the clippers?”
Her mother nodded, looking a bit misty-eyed. “Believe it or not, they’re the same ones from fifty years ago. I found them while sorting through things after my mother passed. I couldn’t let them go. So yes, I suppose things have truly come full circle.”
Jack laughed and said, “So, to really complete the circle, you’re planning to stay bald for the next fifty years?”
Everyone joined in the laughter until Helga’s mother, still smiling, replied, “Well, the thought did cross my mind. I suppose I’ll just stay bald for as long as we can maintain the look.”
Helga looked at her mother, stunned. “Wait… so you really plan to keep shaving your head? You mean… you plan to be bald for the rest of your life?”
Her mother met her gaze, a sparkle of determination in her eyes. “Yes, I think I do. This is who I’ve always wanted to be.”
Bobby raised his hand, gently placing it on her mother’s smooth head, the first open show of affection since they’d arrived. Slowly, he caressed her scalp, his touch warm and supportive. “I have to say,” he murmured, “I really like the way you look. And I’m with you all the way on this.”
Helga’s mother turned to him, gratitude in her eyes, and kissed him on the cheek—a touch longer than a sisterly gesture. Helga and Jack exchanged a look, but this time, it wasn’t one of surprise. Their eyes met with a silent understanding that spoke volumes: If they’re happy, why not?
After all, they weren’t blood relatives, and it was no one’s business but theirs. As they sat there, they both realized they were ready to embrace this new chapter. The people they loved were the same—except now, she glowed with an inner satisfaction and sense of freedom they’d never seen in her before and he was happier than they could ever remember.
And in that moment, they knew that this change would be worth it for all of them.
