Things were going fine, and one by one, the boys emerged from the kitchen looking more dapper than ever.
Logan was last to get a trim. He's usually the one that needs to be forced or bribed when it comes to cutting his hair. With a sucker in both hands, he climbed up onto the stool and
Things were going fine until I came around to his bangs.
Despite the fact that I have NEVER even come close to cutting him, he's terrified that I will, and cannot hold still. As I attempted to cut neatly across his forehead, he quickly turned to his left, and this is what we ended up with-
I've been doing my best to get him to wear hats when we go out (he hates hats), and I've also been using mad amounts of gel in an attempt to give him a comb over....because even that would look better.
So until it grows back, we're enjoying his new claim to fame. Tell me there isn't a striking resemblance!