Humor: Brow-beaten at the hairdressers

Brow-beaten at the hairdressers

I think they ought to amend the sign hanging in my local hairdressers' premises. It says something like: "Parents, please check your child's hair for lice in order to save embarrassment for you and us."

Fair enough.
I can well understand how everyone could get red-faced about that.
Imagine being told by the hairdresser cutting your child's hair that a lyceum of lice has taken up residence in the thicket on your kid's head.

"Oh no! Er, well what can you do with them?" you'd probably splutter.

"Not much," says the hairdresser. "The lice won't sit still long enough for anyone to cut their hair. And anyway, we haven't got bowls that small."

Not that I'm even sure lice have hair.
I have had weightier things to worry about since my last trip to the hairdresser.

I have been fixated these past few days with my eyebrows.

Like me, I bet you have given very little serious thought to your eyebrows.
We are born with them, right?
But what are they for?
I have been on this earth for more than 23,000 days and I still can't think of one time they have come in handy or even been remotely useful.

In fact, had I known then what I know now I might well have been dragged kicking and screaming to the circumcision room all those years ago, shouting: "Please don't cut off that. I might need it. TAKE THESE BLASTED EYEBROWS INSTEAD. I'm never going to need those."

Sure, eyebrows can catch a bit of snow in winter but hardly enough to build your own ski-run.

And they might stay dark after the rest of your hair turns grey, which might be good for your ego, but, hey, it's just an illusion. On the inside, you are as old as you are.

"Oh dear!" my hairdresser Fred said the other day. "Did you notice the problem with your eyebrows, John?"

"P-p-p-roblem?" I spluttered. "Don't tell me I have - please, God no - don't tell me I have eyebrow lice."

"No, nothing like that," said Fred with a smile. "It's just that they have become very, very bushy. How old did you say you were?"

Er, I didn't. You can tell your hairdresser a lot of things but never that.

I looked in the mirror. My eyebrows HAD become very bushy.

How did THAT happen?
I swear I have never encouraged them with water, fertiliser or even the promise of their own ski run.

"Would you like me to trim them for you?" Fred asked.

"Er, well, I suppose so," I said.

I had never had my eyebrows trimmed before, so it was a new experience. A tad embarrassing too, and I am not sure I am even ready to tell anyone about it.

I think that sign really should be amended though.
It should say: "Wives, please check your husband's eyebrows for extravagant growth in order save embarrassment for you and us."

NB: I called this site Dunno because I kept drawing a blank when I had to put a name to it