Of Course He Had To Be a Boy

I've always admired children with curly hair and coveted one for my own, even while knowing that the other side of the fence is having to subdue curls flying all amuck.  When the surprise of some wispy, little curls appeared on this boy, I was smitten and couldn't steel myself to chop them off, which is why the poor child has had a mullet for six months now.

Last week he woke up clearly annoyed by the hair flopping into his eyes, though, so I bucked up and grabbed the scissors.  (Photo credit for any of the following pictures that have a part of my body included goes to Millie.)

As soon as he saw the scissors, he covered his ears in distress and kept them there for the next five minutes. Knowing my aptitude with sharp objects, I considered this a wise move on his part.


















Zeke's old enough to sit still for haircuts now, and I'd forgotten what an impossibility it is to cut a wiggler's hair.  I broke out some candy, even though it's mid-Lent, but even that didn't help.  Instead of lunging away from the scissors, he just lunged toward the candy, which amounts to the same thing, at least where haircut quality is concerned.

Anyway, it's done now, and those little, golden curls have been tucked away, leaving this clean-cut fellow behind.











And all things considered, I think he's as pleased as punch with his new haircut...