A small triumph

15st 9lb, 2.0 units. We took The Boy for his first haircut this afternoon, after a not altogether successful lunch in Morpeth with my brother and aunt. The haircut, by contrast, was a triumph, with The Boy putting up no resistance and Tom the hairdresser ensuring that a representative sample of his lopped curls were gathered up in a plastic bag for his mother to cherish forever, or more likely to spend the rest of her life wondering, from time to time, where the hell she had put them.

Before ...

... During ....

... and After