The last week of school in the Casa de Stie signals more than just the beginning of summer. It has come to mark what I have finally accepted as an inevitable tradition, four years running now.
It began three years ago as a test of my marital patience, which you can read about here. This severe trial of my patience was revisited for the next two years, which you can see evidence of here and here, if you're so inclined.
This year, I took matters into my own hands (after listening to the begging, pleading, and sheer desperation from the boys, of course) and took them in for the deed myself.
And without further ado, I bring you this year's Mohawks:
We are pleased, but slightly shocked, that McKay decided to participate this year, potential middle school harassment notwithstanding. Every year, he's talked a tough game, but has always chickened out in the barber's chair at the first sound of the clippers roaring to life.
This year, he ponied up and just went for it. I think the Hawk goes nicely with his broken finger - makes him look like he maybe did get into a fight or suffer a wicked skateboard injury (instead of the unsightly fall during P.E. that really caused it.)
Chase, as ever, makes the Mohawk seem natural and right at home on his head. His hair was shorter this year due to the flaky chick at Super Cuts who was unable to follow the simplest of directions -- which just means we can't spike it up quite as high.
[He kind of reminds me of Puck from Glee. Which I secretly think is pretty cool.]
So here's to keeping traditions, the start of summer, and sun, glorious, sun.
Ahh, summer. Nice to see you, old girl. You've been sorely missed.