Ah geez, now our dog's gonna have a police record.
...still loving life in Lala Land.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Sweet Sid's Silicone Situation
I really have a wonderful family. Really, I do. But we seem to have this one,… well… genetic flaw. I’m not proud of it. Sometimes, (although rarely), I actually even try to hide it. This was one of those times when I tried my darnedest, albeit unsuccessfully, to hide it...
The other night, I was sitting at my computer checking my email, when my sweetie, Sid, walked in and sat down beside me.
“I think I need your help.” He said nonchalantly, as he handed me a wadded up paper towel. “I think I got some silicone in my hair.” He turned to show me the back of his head.
As I looked at his head, I felt that familiar feeling start deep down in my stomach, that ol’ family flaw…
The back of his head looked like the end result of a full-on sneeze from a bull mastiff. There were big globs that looked like snot, with a fine snotty mist covering the surrounding area. My stomach began to shake as that ol’ feeling grew stronger. I felt my face contort as my eyes squinted and my cheeks tightened. I struggled to control it.
“Um,… yeah, you do have a mess there…” I managed to get out.
My shoulders began to tremble and shake. I was glad he was turned away from me so that he couldn’t see how hard I was fighting this urge – so that he couldn’t see how difficult it was for me to hide this hideous flaw.
“So what gets out silicone?” I snickered. I was loosing the battle…
“Nothing. It’s 50 year silicone!” He sounded a bit put out.
“Nothing?!?”
At this point, my entire body was racked with tremors. I was picking gingerly at the mess in his hair with my fingers. My cheeks ached. I wanted to let fly with the bust-a-gut laugh that I was trying so hard to suppress.
"What about WD-40? Paint thinner? Acetone???” I asked with tears in my eyes, still grateful that his back was turned to me.
“Nothing!” He responded, “It’s silicone for Christ sake. It’s meant to stand up to anything and everything!” His frustration was apparent now. “Can’t you just comb it out or something?”
“Uh,…” *snicker*, “A,… a comb is NOT going through this,…” I giggled, poking at matted blob with my finger. I was trying to leave him some small shred of dignity, but OH GOD, it was hard!
“Well then just CUT it out of there!” He demanded.
I could tell he felt foolish,… poor bastard. *snort!*
The hair/silicone globs were matted and stuck so tight, right to his scalp. There were two different places that were about the size of quarters. I had to peel the plastered mess off his skin before I could even begin to cut it away. He howled in pain as I did so, which didn’t help any in trying to suppress the urge to laugh. I could see it pulling on his skin. *giggle* I’d peel and snip and snicker,… peel, snip, snicker…
“God damn, can’t you be gentle?” He whined. “Am I bleeding???”
“Not yet,…” I tittered. Oh, man, I was sure I was gonna pee my pants.
“Well, I’m glad you get so much enjoyment from my pain, you evil Witch!” He tried to share a little humor.
“Oh, buddy,… you have NO friggin’ idea…” I muttered under my breath.
More peel, snip, snicker… I worked on the mess for about 20 minutes. Peel, snip, snicker. Then I suggested he go take a hot shower to possibly loosen up the remaining silicone. We both needed a break anyway.
So Sweet Sid hit the shower, and I locked myself in the other bathroom and let fly with a fit of laughter that made my stomach hurt. I tried to call my sister, because that’s another part of that little family flaw, the sick-o need to share.
At the end of the cutting, he had two huge bald holes in the back of his head, with an occasional tuft of ragged hair sticking out. He reminded me of my sister’s dog, Daisy, The one that had the serious case of ‘mange’. Eew!
So,... you have to understand something here,… You see, Sid has the most beautiful, black hair I have ever seen. At 56 years old, it is full, thick, and not a gray hair in it. It WAS beautiful. (WAS being the operative word there… *snort!*)
The other night, I was sitting at my computer checking my email, when my sweetie, Sid, walked in and sat down beside me.
“I think I need your help.” He said nonchalantly, as he handed me a wadded up paper towel. “I think I got some silicone in my hair.” He turned to show me the back of his head.
As I looked at his head, I felt that familiar feeling start deep down in my stomach, that ol’ family flaw…
The back of his head looked like the end result of a full-on sneeze from a bull mastiff. There were big globs that looked like snot, with a fine snotty mist covering the surrounding area. My stomach began to shake as that ol’ feeling grew stronger. I felt my face contort as my eyes squinted and my cheeks tightened. I struggled to control it.
“Um,… yeah, you do have a mess there…” I managed to get out.
My shoulders began to tremble and shake. I was glad he was turned away from me so that he couldn’t see how hard I was fighting this urge – so that he couldn’t see how difficult it was for me to hide this hideous flaw.
“So what gets out silicone?” I snickered. I was loosing the battle…
“Nothing. It’s 50 year silicone!” He sounded a bit put out.
“Nothing?!?”
At this point, my entire body was racked with tremors. I was picking gingerly at the mess in his hair with my fingers. My cheeks ached. I wanted to let fly with the bust-a-gut laugh that I was trying so hard to suppress.
"What about WD-40? Paint thinner? Acetone???” I asked with tears in my eyes, still grateful that his back was turned to me.
“Nothing!” He responded, “It’s silicone for Christ sake. It’s meant to stand up to anything and everything!” His frustration was apparent now. “Can’t you just comb it out or something?”
“Uh,…” *snicker*, “A,… a comb is NOT going through this,…” I giggled, poking at matted blob with my finger. I was trying to leave him some small shred of dignity, but OH GOD, it was hard!
“Well then just CUT it out of there!” He demanded.
I could tell he felt foolish,… poor bastard. *snort!*
The hair/silicone globs were matted and stuck so tight, right to his scalp. There were two different places that were about the size of quarters. I had to peel the plastered mess off his skin before I could even begin to cut it away. He howled in pain as I did so, which didn’t help any in trying to suppress the urge to laugh. I could see it pulling on his skin. *giggle* I’d peel and snip and snicker,… peel, snip, snicker…
“God damn, can’t you be gentle?” He whined. “Am I bleeding???”
“Not yet,…” I tittered. Oh, man, I was sure I was gonna pee my pants.
“Well, I’m glad you get so much enjoyment from my pain, you evil Witch!” He tried to share a little humor.
“Oh, buddy,… you have NO friggin’ idea…” I muttered under my breath.
More peel, snip, snicker… I worked on the mess for about 20 minutes. Peel, snip, snicker. Then I suggested he go take a hot shower to possibly loosen up the remaining silicone. We both needed a break anyway.
So Sweet Sid hit the shower, and I locked myself in the other bathroom and let fly with a fit of laughter that made my stomach hurt. I tried to call my sister, because that’s another part of that little family flaw, the sick-o need to share.
At the end of the cutting, he had two huge bald holes in the back of his head, with an occasional tuft of ragged hair sticking out. He reminded me of my sister’s dog, Daisy, The one that had the serious case of ‘mange’. Eew!
So,... you have to understand something here,… You see, Sid has the most beautiful, black hair I have ever seen. At 56 years old, it is full, thick, and not a gray hair in it. It WAS beautiful. (WAS being the operative word there… *snort!*)
I told him we should do a full haircut, and cut it really short so that everything kind of blended in and the holes wouldn’t be so obvious. But his response was, “Oh don’t worry about it. It’s fine! I can’t see it.”
He's so funny, he truly couldn’t care less.
He's so funny, he truly couldn’t care less.
But the problem is, I CAN still see it, and every single time I do,… I feel that feeling again… it starts in my stomach, then my shoulders begin to shake....
Bwwuuaaaaahhhh HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
P.S. I’ve tried twice to sneak up behind him with a camera, but he keeps catching me!!!
(BAD GIRLFRIEND! BAD!!!) *giggle…*
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