Master of the house

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom. In the kingdom lived a happy king and a happy queen. King H and Queen T could do whatever they wished. They had lots of money, slept late on weekends, and could watch any television programs that they chose. And there was much rejoicing throughout the land.

One day, a brave knight named Sir J arrived at the kingdom and there was much rejoicing. But Sir J screamed and cried and needed much care. And as he grew, he became a total crankypants. He took some of the money. And some of the sleep. And most of the television programming became much more cartoonish. King H and Queen T were happy to have Sir J in their kingdom, but they were also very tired, a fact that made them cross much more frequently. But King H and Queen T and Sir J all learned to live together, for the most part in peace and harmony, and life was mostly good.

A few years passed, and a baby named N arrived at the kingdom and there was much rejoicing. N was a good baby. A sweet baby. He loved to eat and sleep and be played with, and he rewarded all of his minions with many smiles and giggles. And though he too took some of the money and some of the sleep, the kingdom continued to function well. Everybody loved N, as he was very cute and very chubby and very happy. Sir J loved N very deeply, and sang to him, and offered him many toys. And despite the poverty, exhaustion, and cartoonish television programming, the kingdom was essentially a happy place.

And then N started to cut teeth. And he developed a loud and high pitched shriek, the likes of which has never been heard. And upon seeing how everyone raced to his aid when he made that noise, N decided to use it for everything. And the kingdom became a much louder place. King H and Queen T were very tired and cross. Even Sir J became frustrated with his beloved N. And while he continued to sing songs to N, they were delivered in loud staccato tones. Finally, having reached the conclusion that all babies cry all of the time, Sir J began to search for a solution.

**********
After a particularly bad night with resultant morning drama, this conversation was heard in the kingdom:

H: I didn't order a baby that cries all the time. It must have been you.
T: I didn't do it either. Maybe we could trade him in for another baby.
H: (incredulously) Another baby?
T: Or, you know, something else. Like maybe a fish tank.
H: Or magic beans.
J: Or a play-doh barber shop?

**********
And this is how Sir J became the owner of a brand new play-doh barber shop. You can't judge us. You weren't there.