Need More Hair

One afternoon when I arrived home from work, Sunnie my granddaughter came to me with a magazine asking which hair style I liked best. It was a collection of photos of various men's and women's hairstyles and Sunnie wanted me to pick a favorite out of the men's styles. I was trying to watch the news and I finally said yes to one of the pictures as my favorite. I really wasn't paying enough attention to her, but my decision seemed to satisfy her and she ran off to do other things.

I had totally forgotten about the magazine when a couple days later I was down by Sunnie's house feeding the horses and she ran outside to ask if she could come up to our house. Of course, I said yes and she hurried back in to get some things to play with as usual. I was waiting for her in the pickup and when she got in I noticed that she had that magazine plus a can of styling gel and a comb. " What are you going to do with that stuff Sunnie" I said? "Don't you remember? I'm gonna fix your hair like you wanted it".

Now, I wondered, what had I absentmindedly agreed to? I couldn't argue with her, I had probably just said yes, OK, one too many times. I wasn't going anywhere that evening so what the heck?

When we got into the house she sat me down in the living room and opened the magazine to a page that looked vaguely familiar with a picture of some smirking male model with a thick, full head of hair. It was one of those styles that you know they probably spent fifty bucks on, to make it look like they had shampooed with eggs and buttermilk and then had a team of dogs and cats lick it almost dry. The hair went in multiple directions of well planned disarray. I guess I must have chosen it as my favorite to shock Sunnie, but she apparently wasn't.

Sunnie sprayed out big handful of styling gel and begin to work it into my hair, which didn't seem to take very long. Then she went to work with the comb while consulting the photo for guidance. After a couple of minutes she seemed a little bit frustrated as if she wasn't achieving the desired results. Finally exasperated, she said, "Ronnie, you need more hair"!

I said, " Yes I do Sunnie, but you just go ahead and do the best that you can." After that I could tell that she was just combing straight up and in half a minute she was done. "Ronnie, you look awesome" she gushed and grabbed my hand to drag to me to a mirror. The old addage, "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" is really true. Sunnie was obviously pleased now with her work, and the fact that it was HER work may have been why she thought I looked so awesome.

I actually looked like a pathetic fifty five year old Jimmy Neutron with about twenty percent of the hair and two hundred percent of the the weight that he had in his youth. If you have kids or grandkids and cable TV you know who Jimmy Neutron the Boy Genius is. He is a cartoon boy with a ridiculously tall, curled pompadour. All's well that ends well, Sunnie accomplished her mission and I resolved once again to pay more attention when a member of the opposite sex is asking me questions. I have to learn to prioritize my distractions, although I am wondering about those Rogaine commercials again.