It was bound to happen...

I have been wanting to write a post about Cooper.  About all the fun things he is doing and saying right now.  About his love for YaYa (Ella -- although, sadly, it is sounding more and more like "Ella" everyday), baseball (Base Ball!), turtles (durt tul), how every time I ask, "Ready guys?" he throws his hands up and shouts "Ray Ray!"  How he calls himself Booper.  Every time he wants to do something by himself he says, "Booper!  Booper!"

But alas.  I have something more pressing to write about.  Today we had a tiny tragedy:

Yes, that's right.  All his beautiful blond hair hacked off in what has to be one of the world's worst haircuts.  And it was me who took him for his haircut.  I can't blame anyone else.  Before I knew it, they had swooped his bangs to the side, and CHOP.  I was pretty much stunned.  And he wiggled and we ended up with the total crazy "I cut my own hair with scissors" look above.

All I could say all day is "I don't know what to do."  Given my extreme phobia of little boy haircuts and the fear that EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED would happen, I was just asking for it.

We're trying to smooth it to the side in an attempt to keep the ridiculous-ness to a minimum.  Oh, it will be a long, long growing out period.