And then there were four...

Last night at 12:38am, I was jolted awake by my phone dinging. It was an incoming text:

What ensued was a long phone conversation this afternoon, while I was sitting at a sidewalk table outside the Boulangerie Bakery on Main Street. 

"I don't know what to do," I said. "I didn't expect her to take a stand like this, and I was planning on shaving my head with you."

We talked about what it would be like if Farrell just went ahead (no pun intended). He said, "You have been prevented / spared from this task, but, like they said in that terrible movie National Treasure: 'Somebody's got to go to prison!'"

We finally struck on a idea. Farrell and his family comes to my house with Walnut Shrimp and a shaving kit, and we put it before Vicky this way: "Farrell is getting his head shaved regardless. You have a small window of time to recant your position on your own husband."

I called Parker to give him a heads-up (again, no pun intended). He very soon thereafter sent me a text: "Would it be stealing Farrell's thunder if I did it, too?"

What a sweet kid. 

So it came down, just about as planned. With surprise and great fanfare, Farrell and Laurel and Sarah Jane swept into the house, Chinese food in hand...

and we settled before a great spread of walnut shrimp, orange chicken, beef and snow peas and fried rice...

And then, a moment of silence...

... and Parker tore in:

...to the great hilarity of the guests. They started making suggestions...

and egging Parker on...

which resulted in some very interesting configurations on Farrell's way to shiny...

We had some great tunes on the box: Tower of Power, the Coucills, Maceo Parker and the Meters. Parker couldn't help but start dancing...

...as did the peanut gallery.

And then the finishing touches...

... and Farrell was done.

And then there were two clear heads...

Parker stepped up to the plate and prepared himself for the worst...

And the maestro did his worst...

with some help from Farrell...

And Vicky had a third compadre...

Now came the moment. We all held our breaths as Vicky deliberated her own husband's fate. Would there be a late-decision reversal in the appellate court? Or would she stand strong? There was now but one furry head left, besides the beagles. 

I will forever believe that the element that finally broke Vicky's resolve was good old competition.  Vicky had seen the attempts at artistry taken on the previous two heads, and finally, with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, decided to show us how it was done. 

I was honored to be the canvas upon which she painted...

 Then, when she had proven her point, she graciously let Parker and Farrell finish the job...

Couldn't be a better looking quartet...

There aren't words to describe the gratitude we have for Farrell, and his determination to join the fray, even when forces seemed marshaled against him. He kept looking for a path, recruiting Parker and me on the way, until together, we cast off our regard for all things hair in a stupendous evening of fun, music and celebration.

The two images I'm left with are these: