I've been cutting hair for almost twelve years. The first time I wielded scissors and a comb it wasn't pretty. In the years that have passed since that dreadful day, my skills have grown and refined. Instead of taking 2 1/2 hours to complete a man's hair cut, I can do the same cut in 15 minutes. Little boy hair cuts vary in length and precision, depending on the willingness and wiggliness of the subject.
I am by no means a professional. My only clients are my husband and kids. And haircuts happen in the kitchen on Saturdays.
The boys have gone through a longer hair phase (I realize this is a relative statement), but today they asked for short cuts again. I was happy to oblige as visions of shaggy-haired, opinionated teenagers danced through my head. I don't mind my boys looking like little missionaries. But since the older boys wanted a noticeable change, we broke out the camera for before and after pictures. Zach and Ty were being silly, so we got intermediate shots of them, too.
So now you know the dirty truth -- my family gets homespun haircuts. If you sit behind us at church, be kind.