The look of love

The Boy popped home the other evening to ‘borrow’ something and I seized the opportunity to take a photo of him with his shorn head to add to my collection. I think it starts at Day 2 or 3 of his life; my legs didn’t work till then and it’s all a bit hazy – those painkillers were very effective! Anyway, there was the usual problem of getting me to the right height so that I’m not a) staring up his nose (he’s a lot taller than me – when he hugs me my face is squished at armpit level) or b) having to stand on a chair and feel wibbly. So he crouched at the knees and we both got a fit of the giggles. The resulting photo (which he doesn’t want enNettified) isn’t flattering! In my opinion he definitely looks better with hair at least six inches long – a couple of years’ time perhaps. Whatever – to me he always looks gorgeous; I’m his mum, after all.

He’s moving home again at the end of the month! His pal Oliver whose house he’s sharing is changing his job, and it’s a tied cottage, so I get him back. :D