This morining was "lets go get your hair cut" morning. Or Not! Isaac was not about to go get his hair cut. Having his hair cut is like having to clean his room. The worst torture ever! I threatened him that if he didn't get dressed I was going to pick him up and take him in his pj's. Embarrassed at the thought he reluctantly got dressed. And then I drag him into the car. Huffing and puffing from the time we got out of the car to the front counter, he was not having it. His name was called and he put up a fight all the way to the hairdressers hair. You know how when your kid doesn't want you to leave so he wraps both arms and legs around your leg, all while crying at the same time. Ya, this was Isaac. I had give him the ol' mom talk. After a little bribing and pep talking, I picked him up and sat him in the chair. Oh, how I wish I had my camera there. He was not very happy, and he did not want to be there. But once he was in the chair he sat there with a scowl on his face and didn't move the entire time.
Owen on the other hand, couldn't be more excited to get his hair spiked. He is a good sport and very cooperative. It is funny to watch him because the buzzers tickle him and he just sits there and laughs the entire time.
The second Isaac was done and out of the chair, his whole demeanor changed. It was like his new do brought out a whole new person. He was happy and nice and excited to show Owen. I think somebody just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
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