Hair Today

Mrs FB's home from home - no longer available

Mrs FB observed to her espoused, as they sat close together at an appropriate distance apart last night, that it was all very well him fretting about there being no cricket for the foreseeable future and beyond, but what was a more serious issue was the closure by government diktat of all hairdressers.

For Mrs FB has a weekly appointment at a local coiffeur that is verboten for the duration.   Her anxiety knows no bounds, for without the ministrations of the salon, her normally neat barnet blossoms into a spectacular mass of hair which would out big-hair even Tammy Wynette.

Fantasy Bob could only mutter his sympathy before recommencing the practice of his late cut in front of the mirror.   But his mumbled sentiment that she will always be beautiful in his eyes didn't  have quite the intended effect.  He could feel her giving the ball an extra shine on her flannels as she turned at the top of her run.

With little mercy, she drew to his attention the unimpressive state of his own locks.  Now, Mrs FB continuously monitors the state of the increasingly infertile plain across the top of his shiny pate.  When she deems the undergrowth to be getting a bit too Mr Pastry (a favourite 1960s comic character of dishevelled appearance), she suggests that he toddle down the road to Julie's Gentleman's Barber and spend an exacting 3 minutes in the chair while he is clipped back to near presentableness.

Under current conditions Julie's is closed.  FB's tresses, such as they are, must continue to sprout.  In which ever direction they choose.

The results will cause Mrs FB considerable distress.  She might however console herself with the thought that it is unlikely that they will ever prove as challenging to her conception of good grooming as they did in the days long before she took him under her wing.

FB pre Mrs FB