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Just a few clips from our life...

A few weeks ago, Bryce announced that he was going to "chalk a beautiful picture" for me and John. We were told to keep out of his secret chalking lair until the masterpiece was complete. Why he was wearing his red cowboy hat and why in god's name he's posing like this (and why all of Bryce's drawings end up being whatever surface he's using COMPLETELY COVERED IN SCRIBBLES with whatever medium he's using - chalk, paint, crayon, pencil, highlighter, whatever), we will never know. But it cracks us up every time we see it (Brokeback Mountain, anyone?).

I've mentioned Quinn's loathing for haircuts before, but I bet you thought I was exaggerating, didn't you? Well, here's your proof, you doubting Thomases. These photos were taken last week after literally hours of bribing and negotiating and cajoling and promising rooms full of balloons to try to get him to JUST SIT STILL AND BE QUIET FOR THE LOVE OF GOD so the people at Super Cuts wouldn't glare at us quite so hatefully every time we go in there. I thought maybe we'd finally gotten through to him, because he sat patiently and waited for his name to be called. In fact, all four of us (Bryce needed a haircut too) waited patiently while the Super Cuts employees found all manner of things to do besides call the names on the little white slips of paper, the slips of paper which they knew represented the miserable end to their already crappy Sunday shift. After the poor new girl realized her co-workers were WAY BETTER at finding busy work ("Oh wow, Shannon never swept under her station before she left! I better do that RIGHT THIS SECOND! And look! Nobody has double-checked our Paul Mitchell inventory, and I think I see a few missing bottles...off to find my clipboard!"), she gave in and called Quinn's name...but not before one last-ditch effort wherein she looked at us with confusion, then looked at the slips of paper and said, "are you guys here for haircuts?" Hoo boy, that was classic. If I didn't want to keep her on my good side because she was about to be holding scissors right next to my offspring's heads, I would have absolutely lost it in hysterical laughter. And really, the poor girl deserved some extra respect, because look at what she had to deal with when Quinn was in her seat:

(I had to hold his head in place to keep him from thrashing. COME. ON. NOW.)

John quite enjoyed taking these shots. Bryce was in the background singing to Quinn, and I appreciated the effort. Quinn...not so much.

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