Right before our trip to New Orleans, it became painfully obvious that Tristan needed a haircut... a professional hair cut... not a mom job.
My regular girl was booked, so I went to the mall. They did a great job. Despite all the ruckus that T caused, with the wiggling and the fussing and the tears - his hair looked the best it had ever.
Yesterday in the bathroom while I was combing Braden's hair for school he told me that he "liked the hair cutting store" because "there you get to sit down while they cut and at home you have to stand and that is no fun!"
- Hair cutting store? LOVE IT!