Last Wednesday, Bailey went in to be groomed. It had been a couple of months, and she was beginning to look somewhat “scruffy.”
OK, DECIDEDLY “scruffy.” Anyway, it was determined that she needed to visit the groomer, and an appointment was made.
Now, you must understand that, in matters of style and/or design, I leave that all to my wife, Mary. When she met me, I was buying all of my clothes from Farm & Fleet: fleece-lined corduroy jacket; harness boots; REAL denim blue jeans; and flannel lumber-jack shirts. I thought it all looked just fine. Flannel shirts are STILL banned from my wardrobe. So it is that I rarely make any decision on appearance without consulting her.
Life was simpler in the Army. Not only did I not have to THINK about what I wore, because it was all out-lined for me, but everyone wore their name on their uniform. This is a tremendous boon for someone who wins easily at Trivial Pursuit but can’t remember the names of people with whom he has worked for years. But I digress.
So it was that I called Mary at her office from the groomers to ensure that I had her instructions correct in my head.
“How did you want Bailey’s hair?”
“Short,” was her reply.
“Didn’t you want some particular style or something?” I asked.
“I don’t know, you know, SHORT!” were her instructions, which I passed along to the groomer.
Mary said when she picked her up she almost didn’t recognize her.
So as I said in the title of this post: be CAREFUL what you ask for- you just might get it. Bailey probably won’t need a haircut now much before Thanksgiving.