As eluded to in my previous post, Monday I attempted to take the two little ones to get their haircut. Natalie hopped up in the chair sat quietly for her turn in the hot seat. Meanwhile Noah was attempting to rummage through magazines and combat crawl under chairs in the waiting area. It wasn't long before Natalie hopped off her throne and Noah caught on. The trauma started with the dreaded words "Noah it's your turn" which was followed with a defiant "NO" and a mad dash to the exit. In true mommy form I bolted after him and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. Once placed in the chair the thrashing began. First with his head and then his whole body. I assured the hair dresser this was not a seizure, only a mere two-year-old tantrum. I quickly jumped in the chair with the little man and put him in a headlock that even Hulk Hogan would be proud of. Unfortunately I was unable to restrain his mouth and had to endure what sounded like his imitation of a screech owl for the entirety of the hair cut. I immediately told the lady "Cut it short, we won't be coming back any time soon". The minute we walked in the door Noah plopped on the floor and passed out. Sleep tight Screech...
No comments:
Post a Comment