A new 'do

I really need a haircut. I have lived in Virginia almost five years now, and I still get my hair cut when I'm home in Utah. I guess I really should find someone out here. I think I was a lot more picky about my hair before my mission. And then this hairstyle happened:

I looked like a mushroom for a year straight. When something like that happens, you have to disconnect your happiness from the state of your hair. And ever since then, if I have a bad hair day, I can just say to myself, "Well, at least I'm not a mushroom head," and somehow that makes it okay to let my highlights grow out and to let eight months pass before getting my hair cut. But anyway, my hair traumas are really not the point of this post. The point of this post is is Colton's hair trauma--the trauma caused by us giving him his first haircut. His hair was starting to get very long in front. Case in point:

And after seeing how cute his second cousin Drew's hair looked after it was cut, we decided it was time for his first shearing. Looking back, we probably didn't choose the best day because he had been grumpy all morning. But we are fearless, and decided to go ahead with it anyway. Justin's role was to do the cutting. My role was to try to distract him while it was happening. It all started out great:

And then he got angry. I thought food would probably be the best distraction, so I was feeding him yogurt. Note to self: yogurt = sticky. The poor kid was screaming, and trying to eat yogurt, and getting all sorts of little hairs stuck to his face.

But he survived, and as his reward he got to chew on a hammer...which he appeared to accept as due recompense for the previous hair torture.