I love Luke's new mirror! I've picked really nice furniture for him so that one day when he grows up and leaves me, I will at least be left with nice furniture in my "guest room". If I can get a boy to take care of his furniture.
Now we come to this morning. I decided he was bordering too close to Mullet-ville, so I gave La Lad a hair cut. I've been putting it off and putting it off, but with the upcoming holiday I thought it would be best to bite the bullet. That way if I screwed up and felt the need for professional intervention, then I would have plenty of time. Ta da!
It's amazing what lunch on the coffee table and Barney on the tube can get ya. I think it's okay, not as good as the last cut I gave him. But not bad enough to pay $20 to get it fixed. Saving the buck was the whole point.
And finally we come to this evening. We were about to leave to do some errands before going to church and I went out to get the mail. I'm not sure why I didn't close the wooden door behind me, but the glass door always latches so I usually let Luke stand at the glass and bang/shout to all the neighbors. This was the senario today, and after getting the mail I checked an email real fast. That's when I heard crying. It was odd crying, not like "I'm hurt" and not like "I'm frustrated" so I let him cry for a minute, thinking he would work it out. When he didn't, I went to investigate. I assumed the crying was coming from his room. Nope. "Hello? Luke? Where are you?" I tried my room. Nope. The bathroom? Nope. Then I turned around and this is what I saw.
One little pitiful crocodial tear running down, upset because he couldn't get back in. All I could do was bust out laughing, grab the camera, and thank my sweet Father in heaven for making sure he stayed on the poarch. I promise next time I don't shut the door I will double check to see if the glass latched.