It had to be done.
That's what I keep telling myself, at least. Poor kid was getting anything and everything stuck in those luscious locks and it was my duty as a mom to take the ol' buzzer and make him into a mancub. And so I did.
He sat in his high chair like a little prince, eating chocolate chips and watching something on the iPad. I carefully and meticulously used the #3 around his ears and scalp and chubby neck until he resembled an independent British Millionaire named Winston (wearing blue football pajamas).
And that is the story of how Baby Will became a little boy.