I'm positive this was the first of so very many ways we will traumatize our child

Lynnie and I decided to have the boys get their first haircuts together.  I'd been putting it off, but after successfully pulling his locks into piggy tails, I knew I couldn't wait any longer. 

The day started off fun with lunch and a stroll around the mall to kill time before the appointments. 

They weren't able to accommodate our request for simultaneous cuts- apparently there's a shortage of hair stylists for babies.  Do you want to know why?  Because of kids like this:

The sucker- that I was reluctant to let him have- that she promised "worked for 90% of kids" and the Elmo movie were worthless.  The hair stylist behind us who was working on a perfectly behaved little angel girl's hair remarked, "Wow, he definitely wins the loudest lungs award."  Poor Susan the Stylist.

And poor, poor Ky who had to endure the horror of a haircut after first watching his BFF barely survive.


I hate the Lloyd Christmas look.  Bring on the clips and headbands-hippy baby will be back in a couple of months...

Halloween, a month late

Simba spent the early parts of Halloween watching a football practice with D:

...and most of the rest of the night in a book store in the mall- after escaping the throngs of kids and families on a mission for sugar- where he showed his best assets:

 

 

 

He did a little light reading on the presidential candidates; it was the week before the election, afterall.  Apparently the imcumbent's story was a bit dry:





 

 

Then he found something he liked...

 

 

 

 

...and was ready to take it home:

 

 

 

After 10 minutes of chasing him around like a crazed lunatic with my camera, he finally looked at me straight on and allowed me to snap a very blurry picture of his full ensemble:

 

 

 

Maybe next year we'll actually get some candy.





Mr. Peepers

This boy eats like his life depends on it.  Luckily he's not too picky about what we give him.  An apple will keep him occupied for a good 10 or 15 minutes, though not without a mess to clean up.  We don't even have to worry about cutting it up anymore- he eats it Mr. Peepers' style.