At 17 months old, my baby Finn still doesn't have much hair. It's filling in a bit, but it's very fine and wispy. The other day I decided that he needed a little trim. While I loved his fuzzy hair (lovingly referred to by me as "baby chicken hair" or "baby orangutan hair", as Aaron dubbed it), it was getting kind of shaggy.
I pulled out Aaron's clippers and even before I'd turned it on, Finn knew what was coming. He was, um, a little nervous.
Poor guy. I felt like I'd just tortured him.
In the end, though, it turned out fine and he is more handsome than ever! Hopefully he hasn't been scarred for life by this experience.
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Hopefully he hasn't been scarred for life by this experience.
3 comments:
Yup, he's scarred.
Man you are mean....ha ha just kidding. Gabe used to scream when he needed a haircut. That was so cute how he was clinging to you for dear life.
That's still not as bad as Dad using paper clips and crochet needles (or ear cleaning tools as i thought) to clean our ears.
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