That's how long we made it. Eight years, eleven months, and 3 days...
Let me remind you how Aaron looked on Sunday:
Nice, huh. He's so handsome. I am SOOO glad we took pictures because today I am getting out of the shower and Aaron slides the blades of a pair of scissors under the door and calls out,
"MOM, CAN THESE CUT??"
Um yes, go put them on mommy's desk and don't touch anymore. Those are not toys.
phew... crisis averted.
And then I open the door.
"Mommy, I have hair on me!"
Three thousand, two hundred and fifty eight days. that's how long I have been a mom, and how long we have managed to go without this ever happening.
Why did it have to be the one with my favorite hair?
"Aaron! Now we have to give you a new haircut to fix your hair!
"Is my hair broken?"
It is now....
Grrr... Darn if he isn't still cute.
It'll grow back, Right?