Offered up to Illustrate the Need

It's true.   The boy needed his hairs cut.

I ensconced him in the highchair, emergency rations in hand, when I should have been packing for our trip to Long Island.

 

He was happy.  He giggled at birds.  He pointed at them.  I hoped snipping would be a breeze.

And so Zeke's shearing began.

When I traded the camera for scissors and began trimming in earnest,  he wriggled like a worm on a hook.  My goodness, it was not fun, and my new goal became not to give him a cute haircut but rather to finish as quickly as possible, cuteness be darned.

Debbie was kind enough to document the mighty struggle.   In retrospect, I should have asked her to pin down the worm, instead.  Also, I look harried, sweaty, and frizzled because I was harried, sweaty, and frizzled.  (Nothin' but the best for you readers.)

 

Ah, he's worth it, though.  Look at the boy.