Tuesday this week was Picture Day at Wesley’s school. This meant that we had to hunker down and do the Most Dreaded Deed of All Deeds: cut Wesley’s hair.

Wes is, for whatever reason, deathly afraid of certain noises like knives slicing, noses blowing, and scissors cutting. This last one has made haircuts a tortuous experience for all involved. John holds him down while I snip. But, as you can imagine how perfectly still a 2- or 3-year-old sits whilst being snipped at with scissors (NOT), we’ve had close calls with serious bodily injury doing this.

Aaaaand the end result is that when I notice that Wes needs a haircut, I put it off. And off. And off. For as long as conceivably possible.

But this week we finally did it. His hair was over four inches long. It was time. We opted to use clippers, which we figured were less likely to maul his ears or face if when he thrashed wildly around.

I tried to introduce him to the clippers first, showing him how they turned on and made noise, letting him touch the base and feeling it vibrate. This was all well and good. Until we actually tried to bring the buzzing clippers within an inch of his head, and then the usual tortuous experience commenced.

The upshot is that, yes, Wesley’s hair is now shorter. It’s about 7/8″ long in most places, to be exact. A little crooked and uneven. But shorter. Phew. Done for a few more months.

BEFORE:

AFTER:

Wes waiting for the bus on Picture Day.