Mrs. Irrelephant manages a dog grooming salon.
Mr. Irrelephant is a cheap bastard, and thinks that it'd be foolish to pay for a haircut that the Mrs. could provide for free.
The Mrs. doesn't feel this way often, but it works.
The thing is, being a professional groomer she tends to cut my hair (what little there is of it) as though she were grooming a dog, so when she wants me to turn my head a little to the left, instead of saying "turn your head to the left" or "left a little bit" she simply grabs my left ear and tugs on it until, like a horse with bridle, I turn my head that direction. When she wants to make me tilt my head forward, instead of gentle verbal instructions I instead get a forearm or an elbow shoved into the base of my skull. If I fidgit any while she's operating, I usually (excuse the pun) get barked at. "STOP IT! HOLD STILL OR I'LL MUZZLE YOU!" Years ago, when the whole haircut-at-home thing started, I playfully make a teeth-snapping/barking noise at her hand when it got close to my ear. She's naturally a little high-strung about sudden noises and things like that, so I thought it'd be funny to startle her. No. I wore a muzzle for the rest of the haircut, and brother, let me tell you, those things ain't pleasant. I've still got buckle-marks.
So this morning she's particularly bad, partly because I had pretty bad bed-hair, and I preferred to get it cut first, THEN shower, because of the cascades of tiny itchy bits of hair that end up everywhere. I paid for that bold stroke by having to endure her entering into a sudden frenzy of change-blade-cut-hair-change-blade-cut-hair-change et grooming cetera. The worse part of it was that she'd put the clippers right up against my skull, and the resulting vibration would make my eyes cross and my throat would sort of close up, so I'd start making this cocker spaniel-choking-on-a-bone sound, and she'd cuff me a couple of times with her forearm and shout "HOLD STILL, DAMNIT, OR SWELP ME I'LL TOSS YOU BACK IN YOUR KENNEL AND YOU CAN SIT AND STEW!"
What really worries me is that it's getting worse, not better. As she was finishing my haircut this morning, she threatened to shave my potty trail.