Thursday, March 31, 2011
Don't ask why, but I decided to give Zephyr his first haircut. Myself. After a glass of wine (or two). Here he is before:
Laid back. A little too laid back. Things are getting scraggly. Clearly, something must be done.
Whoooops, totally fucked his head up.
Yes, Zephyr, "gag." Mommy fucked up your hair. It is a terrible look. It looks like a hipster chick with low self esteem cut her own bangs after that guy she went out with last week didn't call like he said he would.
Now what, though?
What else, a good old-fashioned, Ron Swanson-approved High and Tight. But a little less tight. And with an unintentional Vanilla Ice notch above the ear. Scott, surprisingly, wouldn't let me take it all the way by adding a couple more. He's no fun.
He looks like this little German boy from the 1920s. I wish I hadn't snipped across the front, but whaddayagonnado. At least it'll grow back.
Not much new to report, but he has a new trick: pretend talking on the phone. One day he snuck over to my phone and just held it to the side of his head saying, "Yah. Yah. Yah." And now any object that is roughly rectangular in shape is a phone. Or just an empty hand. That works, too.
And he's just been having a good old time with his little buddy Fred. They are the cutest little besties ever. This is the only kid that Zephyr hugs, and I finally caught it on film.
He loves him some Freddlez. They have so much fun playing and talking to each other. I know, totally gay.