James comes in this morning (and I use the term "morning" loosely) and wants to know what time we're leaving for Luke's all-star game. I am distracted by how much of his physical appearance is consumed by his "bed-head".
"When are you getting a hair cut?"
"I was going to today...but..."
"Today would be GREAT!"
First, he didn't really want to call any place to see how late they were open.
So I got the phonebook and a phone and began to dial a number.
Then, he didn't really want to go anywhere that only took cash.
So I hung up and dialed a different number.
Then, he remembered a friend of his gets his hair cut at the feed store.
So I (are you kidding me?) so I thumbed to the "F" page to find the number for "Feed Store, The".
Then he realized he didn't really know the NAME of the feed store.
So I thumbed through the yellow pages under "feed".
He called Hayne's Feed Store just 'cause that sounded pretty good. (and this is actually what he said:)
"Yes sir, do y'all have a hair cut place there?"
(Landen and I were DYING in muffled laughter: "yeah, I need 30 pounds of oats and a perm") Barely able to maintain composure, and with only one little break in his voice, James ends the call, "Ok, Thanks." click "pshtshsshsh-ya-ha-ha!" All three of us burst into an explosion of rolling laughter.
"He said Marshall Feed Store has a hair cut place."
(but of course!...What has our town come to?)
After calling the correct feed store, he found out they DO close early on Saturday.
We're back to calling hair salons.
He finally found a suitable establishment that is open and accepts debit transactions so he headed out. "You don't sell rye grass seed? Ok, just a little off the top, then."
