Chick's First Trip to the Barbers

I have been growing Chickie’s hair for a couple of months now with a view to him having trendy dishevelled locks a la Ashton Kutcher circa 16 months. After deciding this morning he was starting to look more like Barry Manilow, I took his baby nail scissors and began snipping. Twenty minutes later I was making an emergency appointment at the Barbers for a little head of hair that was now home to more tram tracks than San Francisco.

At 12.08pm precisely, my sweet, cloaked angel sat perfectly still on the ledge attached to the chair, his little head perched on the summit of Gown Mountain. It was as if he knew, any sudden movement could cost him an ear. Ten minutes of pruning later and he looked every inch the Compressed Chartered Accountant.