So it started last night when I took Samuel out of the bath and realized his hair was just...so floppity. I tried to cut it, but I was just making a mess of it all. So he went to bed. And then I tried again this morning, and man, was I ever wrong to think I could cut his hair. So we went to the barber. He was alright there, not great but okay. That barber is so nice. And the room was filled with old men waiting to get their hair cut. It was like an old fashioned barber shop. Samuel didn't want to go initially, but he managed it. And Clara was happy to sit in the stroller. Oh, the lady barber was there. Anyway, I took a picture. The picture.
He looks like a little boy from the 50s.
You can't tell from that photo but Samuel and I spent a lot of time weeding yesterday, and then today I trimmed all of the dead heads off the irises, and swept the pavement. I felt Very Productive.
We went to playgroup today, which was fun, but we miss you.
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