The paintball incident

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The day was blue with streamy clouds dashing the sky along with its fluffy kin.
A slow day in Cameron county and even slower shift at my quaint barbershop.
I was reading the latest issue of bald beauties magazine when a sorrowful sight came through the clear doors.
My attention quickly focused on the sobbing girl, her hair peppered with splats of paint.
“Excuse me”,said the mother,”Do you take walk-ins?”.
I was curious and I wanted answers so I said,”Sure, this way”.
I escorted the lot to the chairs.
I patted a chair and the mother lifted her sobbing kin onto its puffed cushion.
“So… you mind telling me what happened”.
“(sigh) her brother thought going around the house with his dad’s paintball gun and firing at anything that moved was a good idea. Well, Bella here, was minding her own business when splat! blots of paint landed on her clothes, toys, and as you see, her hair”.
“Dang”, I said, tightening the cape,”He’ll get the punishment of a lifetime”.
“Indeed”
“Well, he did a number on her hair, to get the color out,(sigh) we’ll have to shave her head”,I explained, watching the girl’s teardrops turn to floods.
“No, mommy!”she pled.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. But he’s right”
“No!”she howled.
I felt sick to do what I did, but it had to be done.
First, I sheared her hair down and buzzed it. Then I shaved her but not to the skin.
She was sobbing uncontrollably after the funeral of hair.
I released her and she rushed to her mother and sobbed in her arms.
“I’m very sorry”, I tried to express but I knew comfort was futile.
The mother looked up at me and then she stood up. She looked persistent as she walked to the chair and sat in it.
“What style?”I queried.
“Isn’t it obvious”,she exclaimed, removing her hoop earrings,”Shave me like my daughter”.
I was a bit credulous at this devotional statement from mother to daughter.
“Y-yes, ma’am”
I took up my shears and severed her rivers of chocolate brown waves.
She just kept her eyes forward and perched her lips.
I grabbed my clippers and started shearing her tresses to short stubble.
When she resembled her daughter, I reached to release the cape but she caught my arm.
“Shave me further”
“Smooth?”
She nodded so I obliged and lathered her scalp with cream and used my razor take off the remainder of hair.
Again, I reached to remove the cape but again she stopped me.
“Take off my eyebrows”
“What!!!”
“I want to teach my daughter that I can be beautiful without hair”
I couldn’t open but I obliged again and shaved off her brows with skill.
She rubbed her scalp and nodded and finally allowed me to release her.
She applied her hoop earrings, got out of the chair, and picked up her child.
“See, mommy’s just as beautiful without her pesky tresses”
“Mommy, I love you”
The mother paid for the cuts and left with a smiling child.

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