Let's just call this post "The Haircut"

Last Sunday everything started off normally for me, a step-mommy: it was Ty's weekend at his mom's house, so I slept in and started doing some housework. The prospect of taking Ty back for the evening as a favour had already been brought to my attention, so it was no surprise when I got the call saying that Ty would be home in about an hour ... but then those daunting words followed, "and don't forget that tomorrow's picture day, I wish I would have gotten him a haircut."

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Sunday afternoon ... hubby is out with the car ... not enough time to get a haircut ... so I started to charge the clippers. After all, how hard can it be?

I get a garbage bag and rip a hole in the top, I say, "put this on," and he replies, "you're joking, right?" Nope, I wasn't joking. Moments later he was standing in the hallway yelling, "AS IF I'M WEARING A GARBAGE BAG!"

He says to me, "well, if I'm good for the haircut can I have a freezy?" I'm not really one for bribery but I figured why not. So it began - the haircut portion I mean - and as soon as I started shaving his little rat tail off I immediately regretted my decision to DIY my kid's head.

After over an hour of, "sit still Ty," (Ty goes from being in the upright position to head between his legs), "sit still Ty," (Ty's jollily kicking his legs back and forth), "sit still Ty," (Ty's scratching his neck uncontrollably at this point because the garbage bag has not proven effective), the crying and other antics, I finally called it quits. No hairdressers open at this point I decide that maybe if I spike it at the front, it won't be so bad.

After the whole thing was over he had a nice long shower to wash the 'itch' off. He got out of the shower refreshed and happy as a clam and asks, "so how about that freezy, was I good?"

I can't wait to see the pics.