Not much could make Prince Rupert lose his million dollar smile, but his new daddy Pete was testing him today.
“Wooput fink Peet nee hewpsies fwom gwown-up.”
Peet glared across the top of the Hasbio fluffy pony conditioner bottle he was trying to read. “I AM the grown up here.”
Prince Rupert gently touched the hearts of his hoofpads together and took a deep breath. “Mebbe, Peet nee bettaw gwown up for hewpsies. Wooput hab hed hurties for fowebbas.”
It had been about twenty minutes trying to detangle Prince Rupert’s mane, which is exactly forever for a fluffy pony and a young man who uses 3-in-1 and runs the same beard trimmer over his entire head once a month. There was much crying and whining, but not much of it from Rupert.
“I could just cut it…” Pete sighed in exasperation.
Rupert’s violet eyes went positively crimson, “Peet wiww NU cut Wooput mane.”
“Alright. I think I have an idea. Hopefully she’s still awake.”
~
Hildy was cozy in her recliner, hot toddy in one hand, remote in the other, feet up and ready for a soothing evening of Law and Order SVU. She was rapidly going deaf and couldnt hear the dialogue, but that one detective sure had a nice tushy.
Beside her on the coffee table, her fancy cell phone buzzed and flashed, bouncing against the wood to the beat of “hamster dance.”
“ HELLO? HELLO? OH LET ME CONNECT MY HEARING AID oh hello peter, dear! So good to hear from you! I was just tucking into my stories but i always have a minute for my favorite great-grandson!”
“Good evening, Meemaw, thanks for picking up so late. Im in a bit of a bind…”
“Oh! Oh no honey, do you need bail? Don’t tell your sisters because i’d never bail them catty skanks out, but for you, anything! Im so proud of you finally getting arrested. about time you had a little adventure of your own…”
“Nothing like that, Meemaw, its actually a hair question.”
Hildy was a hairdresser for most of her life, only recently retired to Florida after nearly sixty years behind the chair.
“Meemaw, pweeze hewp Wooput. hed hurties su muchies.”
Pete pulled rupert into his lap. “See, I washed it but I think I used the wrong soap, because now its all frizzy and tangled and I cant even get a comb through it…”
Hildy sat up in her recliner. this was a hair emergency. “oh good lord, Pete, what did you do to my great-great grand fluffy? You need some warm water, some lard, and a lil vinegar.”
“meemaw I dont have lard.”
“whaddya mean you dont have lard, how do you fry chicken or make corn bread? Any kind of slick will do, mineral oil, baby oil, astroglide, just about half oil and half warm water with a dash of vinegar. I found the most wonderful lube the other day at the dirty book store, way better than astroglide, called ‘gun oil’ and its for homosexuals, but i found it worked just fine for me… ”
Peet had no oil of any kind in his crummy apartment.
“I have peanut butter?”
Meemaw sat in silence, comforting herself with detective stabler’s round derriere running across the screen. “that’ll be fine. peanuts got oil. Work the oil into the hair, really massage it, then comb from tips to root until that all comes loose. In the morning, I want you to get a pack of soft foam curlers from the drug store. they’re bright colors and a bunch of sizes. God help us I dont trust you with a curling iron, but I dont think you could do damage with foam rollers.”
Sure enough, the peanut butter potion worked the matting loose enough that Pete could comb it out. after yet another bath, Pete carefully combed Ruperts mane and twisted each clump of curls into tidy ringlets just like meemaw said to.
It reminded Pete of old musicians from the late 1900’s with the big leather jackets. Rick James?
The next evening, Meemaw talked Pete and Rupert through each step on how to put his mane in curlers to keep it tidy. The peanut butter incident never had to be repeated.
