"
That boy needs a haircut" was my grandfather's indictment of his namesake's (Kincaid) apparent grooming deficiency. And since Earl Wallace Kulp's incisive perceptivity has ferreted out Phillies' handicaps before they were officially found (e.g. "
Manual needs to get that Ho Chi Minh Park out of there!"), we thought we should take his advice -post haste- and get that boy a haircut.
Supercuts, which was less than super, provided the Republican trim for the not-so-super price of $14.00. The six minute cosmotological service compelled me to reconsider my day-job for a more lucrative position in such superlative salons whose sound systems are on par with club med. Lucky for Caid he is really "feeling" Lady GaGa these days.
As you can imagine, being both a boy and sixteen months old, he was as interested in remaining still for his sexually-questionable stylist, as Democrats are in cutting back on entitlement spending. Reserving my mommy taser (read: spankings) for the privacy of my Dobson-friendly home, I resorted to a head-lock, which Kincaid enjoyed immensely.
Nevertheless, that boy got his haircut and he does- in fact- look
super (cute).
3 comments:
Ha, ha! that was great ... I wish I had as much "pull" as your grandfather:)
enjoyed that very much. thanks for the morning chuckle!
gracious...whatever would your grandfather say about my wild long-haired crew?!
you can do it yourself!!! i cut all 4 of my boys' hair! save your money!
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