I cut J-Man’s hair yesterday. Go back and re-read that first sentence again so you can understand the enormity of that statement. I’ll wait.

[To really get the full magnitude of this, see previous hair installments here and here.]

I cut J-Man’s hair yesterday, and it looks decent. I cut J-Man’s hair yesterday, with clippers. I cut J-Man’s hair yesterday, and he didn’t completely flip out, although he wasn’t the HAPPIEST kid in the world. I cut J-Man’s hair yesterday, and although he cried a little bit, he didn’t scream, or scratch me, or try his best to get out of the chair. I cut J-Man’s hair yesterday, and I did a little touch-up this morning, and he was great about it. I cut J-Man’s hair yesterday, and ended up with a ball of hair bigger than my FIST, that the birds are now enjoying using in their nest building since I dumped it off the deck.

I cut J-Man’s hair yesterday.

I am MAMA, hear me roar!