Two Outta Three Ain't Bad

So I finally did it. I got their hair cut.

My children don't look like degenerates anymore!

I am a good mother*!

But let me show you! It's better that way. Caleb, before:

Stop it. He had been wearing a hat! Look, he's got an artist's soul! Look at him! So carefree and beautiful! He's a poet. An author. A photographer, maybe! He's NOT a degenerate!

He's SEVEN. Good grief.

Aidan was incredibly enthusiastic:He, uh...well, he's been hinting (okay maybe begging a little...just off and on, though!) about getting a haircut...anyway**...anyway, the hairdresser was so impressed with his excellent behavior that she asked him to come back again very soon. She enthused and gushed and...well, she was excited. He sat still. He did everything she asked. With a smile.

And...

voila! Look at the rapture on Aidan's face.

Here's another, for good measure.

Suave, hmm?

You may have noticed the absence of news about Liam's haircut. That, my friends, is because he did not get one. Why, you ask? Well, because he's never had one! He's scared! Oh! And I did cut his bangs so they don't get pasted to his nose anymore. It's cute! He can see very well. And, oh God...and he's blonde. His hair's all...shiny and blonde and curly! It's cherubic.

You can't make me!

I'm not ready!

runs away

*today

**please refer to first asterisk (and corresponding reference)