No More Tears

Today I decided Zachary needed a haircut. What this usually means is that I tell him we're going, he protests but gets in the car anyway, plays trains till it's his turn, and then screams bloody murder while they cut his hair and I try to hold him down. It's an emotionally and physically exhausting activity.
Until today...
We arrived with Miss Jessica and Sophie in tow, and Zachary played trains till it was his turn. Ms. Jeri gave him a lollipop (as a preemptive peace offering perhaps) and he let her put him in the fire truck chair. She put the cape on him and cut his hair without so much as a whimper out of my little guy. YIPPEE!!!!
I'm so proud!