hairdresser

Buckless Bob

I don’t talk hunting much except with Bob. Or sometimes he is referred to as Bobby or we can use his nickname given to him by his friends – Buckless Bob.  And I don’t have to tell you why.  It’s one of those names that needs no explanation.  Poor Bob.

Bobby, as I refer to him as, is my hairdresser’s husband.  And every hunting season Bobby and I talk hunting.  Not by my choice of course.  And just as hunting season opens, Bobby will ask, “So I suppose Mark already got his 25 point buck.”  Because that’s what buckless Bobs say. And if I were a real hunter’s wife I’d carry a picture in my wallet to show Buckless what he’s missing.  But I’m not and … well … I’d rather not rub it in.

Poor Bob.

Because I’m not mean like that.

I focus on other things besides hunting, camouflage and big @ss bucks.

I just focus on hats above ears that remind me of  Devo that sings Whip It.  Whip it good.

When they sing -  “Crack that whip” now I’m ganna say, “Smack that buck”.

Have a good day all and here’s hoping Buckless Bob will have a new nickname when this hunting season ends.

See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net

hairdresser

The Looney Bin – Haircuts and Colts

My husband Mark and I did something yesterday we haven’t done in awhile together – visit our parents.  Our first stop was his Moms.  She just had surgery on her knee a couple of weeks ago and can’t get around much.  She mentioned she hadn’t had a haircut in a couple of months so my husband volunteered to trim her hair.

Jody:  What?

Mark:  I trim my hair all the time.

Mother-in-law:  You sure you can cut my hair Markie?

(Jody thinking:  OMG. PLEASE. NO.)

Jody:  Maybe we can call her hairdresser to come to the house.

Mark:  I can cut it.

(Jody thinking:  Oh Mother-in-law, you don’t let your son cut your hair. I’m trying to save you.  I know it’s your pain pills.)

Jody:  I’m sure her hair girl will come to the house. MARKIE.

Mark:  I can handle it.

Mother-in-law:  Just a little around the ears Markie.

Jody:  But…

(Jody thinking: Oh heavens. Wonder if there’s a bottle of vodka hid down stairs?)

My husband cut her hair and then I gave her a good shampooing.  It actually turned out alright.  Well, until her real hair dresser asks, “Who cut your hair last Marilyn?”

On to my parents house.  My Dad was diagnosed with throat cancer 8 months ago and is still having a few issues.  Because of some swelling he needs to write what he wants to say. After a few notes back and forth with my husband Mark, I took the notepad to see what my Dad had to say earlier in the day.  Maybe he was having a good day and wrote love notes to my Mom.

But … well … is this what happens after being married 50 years?

Umm yea.  The meatloaf was good but the squirrels are as fat as her.  And the birds.

WT?

I need a cupcake.

I’m going to blame it on the pain pills.

P.S. – The spelling?  My Dad use to do the newspaper crossword puzzles daily until he got sick.  Instead, he has found his entertainment walking around the house with his gun holster on and his Colt in it.

P.S.S. – For those of you that don’t own a gun … his Colt is NOT a horse, it’s a gun.  I thought he finally bought that lil pony I always wanted.

Have a good day all … my Mom and I are off to the gym right after I eat a few checkers.

See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net