Except that Avery is wigglier than any slick pig and bites, hits, and head butts alot harder than most sheep or goats. And he still fought the haircut even though I kept telling him, "Mom's going to win. Mom always wins." And Mom did win, and without any bloodshed, I might add. And believe me, based on the battle there really should've been pints of bloodshed or a missing ear or two.
I snapped these this morning after he had dumped out his toy box, slid it into the laundry room and flipped it over to use as a stool so he could reach the hanging baskets on the wall where I throw odds and ends. (Hence the totally busted look in the first one).
Anything that can be dumped and flipped for illegal height-boosting purposes is up for grabs and used for evil purposes throughout the day. Each and every chair we own is put in "time out" on the kitchen counters immediately after breakfast or there are a dangerously high number of life-threatening climbing incidents when I leave the room. They push them around to access anything out of reach. I even found a chair they hauled all the way to my bathroom because Avery wanted to taste a bottle of "medicine" on the counter. Pretty soon I fear I will catch one of them standing on the other one's shoulders all acrobat-style and then I don't know what I'll do.