Adventures in haircutting

Yesterday Russ buzzed both our boys' heads. Or at least he tried to, until the clippers died smack-dab in the middle of the job, sending me off in a panic to the nearest store in search of a new set.

Because no mama wants to leave her son's head looking like this:

YIKES.

(By the way, this is why we only buzz Cooper and Blake's heads if cutting their hair ourselves. We are in no way, shape, or form qualified for anything else.)

Luckily I found a new kit, with color-coded guide combs nonetheless, and Russ was able to do some real damage to the bathroom floor.

Unluckily, I was not back home in time to advise against the wisdom of putting the four-year-old in the bathtub with a floor full of hair right next to it.

Clean up from hell.

I was home in time to advise against the mohawk idea, but it didn't matter. I was out-voted 3-1.

Boys!

And so okay, I guess I think it's kinda cute, in a "baseball season ONLY" kind of way. But after that, it's gone! (And I'm sticking to my guns on that one.)