Work was hell but an idea sprung my olden mind: our family has never got a family shoot done.
My wife dug the proposition but sprung a vision of her own onto me,”Everything must be perfect, you have to wear that western outfit I bought you last decade that you haven’t wore even once”
”Alright”, I agreed.
”I’ll schedule us girls an appointment with Jackie”
”Come again?” I asked, I must’ve misheard,Jackie was a perfectionist and carried herself as such; I couldn’t comprehend what she would do to my girls if this went through.
”It won’t be that bad, she’s really good”,rationalized my wife,”It’ll be fine”
I couldn’t guess a thousand outcomes that might’ve happened but what really occurred blew those out of the water.
I cleaned myself up at the Stanley Parlor for Gents and as I was out the door, I received a text from my wife.
It was a photo of her and the girls in dark-blue capes with matching towels about their heads, it was quite the menagerie.
I smiled and sent back a smiling face emoji, it did not concern me to what Jackie did to them.
I dressed in the proper outfit and headed for the studio, a happy hour was my car-ride and it was last time I feel my old life.
The tall studio was basic but the banners of their photographs was the eye candy for such a place.
I was to meet up with the girls on the third floor so up I went and my path to them became shorter.
What I didn’t expect was three, visible bald heads in the room that was scheduled for my family, a blurry glass sectioned off the face so I thought it was some other family who got their room mixed up, but as a grew closer and pushed open the final glass door; it became obviously clear as day.
”Daddy”,my youngest exclaimed calmly, hugging the half-way point of my chest,”You’re here”
They all, my wife, my youngest, and my eldest daughter, were all bald before me.
”Mr. Darren”, a man in a suit addressed me, shaking my hand,”I’m Rod, your photographer”
I was so shaken by my girls’ change in hairstyles that his voice drew a blank for me, he snapped me back to place me among my bald daughters and beside my bald wife.
I knew I would get the story later, so for now, I posed stoically for the camera.
”Cheese”,we all rang out as the flash hit us.
Back at home, I was still in a bit of a state of shook when the story was recounted to me.
”Was this Jackie’s Idea?” I asked in kind of an angry tone.
“Not quite”, my wife confessed,”I wouldn’t let her touch our girls, at least, without my permission”
”You made them do it?” I accused.
”Dad”, my young one calmed me,”We kinda, sorta, allowed it to happen”
My eyes widened.
From my wife’s perspective:
It was early and I took the girls to Sister Sally’s Salon for their and my appointment.
The sky was averagely nice for the day and the salon seemed to be stable but not in a rush.
”Hi girls”, the chipper receptionist said to us,”Do you have an appointment?”
”Yes”,I replied with a smile,”A haircut for three, one adult and two minors-“
”Girls”, chimed in Jackie, she was an older lady but her beauty persisted through the years,”Come, come”
Me and the girls were seated and two other salon maidens attended to my daughters as Jackie was to me.
Capes were flipped and secured, our heads were washed and dried, and the brainstorming began.
”So, what are we doing to-day-hay?”asked Jackie as she combed through, her coworkers mirrored her actions.
I told her about my husband’s plan for a family photo and instantly, her eyes lit up like candles.
”Ooh-hoo-hoo!” Jackie sang,”Baby, won’t you look good for I just planned for you”
”Hold your horses”, I halted her,”What did you plan?”
”What?” I pressed.
”Just trust me and my cohorts, we’ll take care of y’all”
I sighed and looked to my girls,”I don’t know? What’d you guys wanna do?”
They shrugged and I was hesitant to try anything new but I wanted to make this family photo super special so I agreed with,”Fine, we’ll do it”
”Excellent”, smiled Jackie, casually picking up a clipper device near me,”Ladies, position”
She orchestrated her followeresses to one side of us girls and each one ignited their tool, each was raised and placed on our hairline and they, to the beat of the salon jig, pushed down our heads.
When it exited its path, we all put our hands to our mouths in shock but our dressers were unfazed; letting us catch our breath before continuing their client’s buzzing.
Strip after strip came off, I and the girls were left with short, buzzed hair that was soon to be shaved off.
During the period between coats of shaving cream, I took a selfie with my daughters and sent it to my husband.
When it was time, the towels came off and second coat was spread on our heads.
Like clockwork, the trio of stylist ran their razor in unison with her sister; it kinda felt scripted.
Me, my youngest, and my eldest girls’ head laid atop our necks, bare and semi-identical.
”Magnificent”,Jackie said to her helpers,”Good job, girls: both of you”
She was referring to her clients and her employees.
With the hard part out of the way, my daughters and I were free to roam as Jackie took us to get ringed up.
Each of our heads were rubbed by either me or a sister as I couldn’t keep a straight face as I pulled out cash to pay.
”No no”,Jackie insisted,”Shaves are on the house”
She then pulled me close,”Just send me a copy of your guy’s shoot”
”Of course”,I agreed.