Thursday, April 2, 2009
Or so my 2-year-old would have you believe.
Today, Beckett got a haircut. And I think we succeeded in annoying the piss out of every patron and stylist in the salon as he wailed and squawked like he was on fire. I know what you're thinking: where are the pictures of this so-called torture? I don't have any, because I was busy pinning his arms down and hugging him to my chest while the stylist tried not to slice an ear off amidst his thrashing.
He didn't want a Tootsie Roll Pop, he didn't want to wear the cool lime green cape with cars on it, and he certainly didn't want the Clippers of Doom anywhere near his head. Thankfully for my sanity (and much to the enjoyment of everyone's ears) he calmed down towards the end. One hair-covered red sucker, two sticky hands, a snotty nose and some cleavage full of hair shavings later, this little man emerged:
So in my opinion, the torture was worth it because he looks damn adorable. But rest assured I had her take quite a bit extra off the top. No plans to repeat this again any time soon.
Thu Apr 02, 10:26:00 PM EDT
Thu Apr 02, 11:27:00 PM EDT
Fri Apr 03, 07:55:00 AM EDT
Fri Apr 03, 03:38:00 PM EDT