Making Faces

Sometimes I worry about how much fun Andy finds in acting like a goofball. He has a zillion expressions and every one of them leaves me wondering what kind of schemes he is cooking up in that mischievous little head of his.

As you can see from these pictures at Nana's house, Andy has been very due for a haircut. So I decided to take him to the local barber shop last Sunday for a little trim. We got to the barber shop and there was a line of a couple people in front of us. Now you can imagine how boring it must be for poor Andy to have to sit in an old-man style barber shop and wait 30 minutes for his haircut. No toys, no fun books, just a lot of boring magazines, and... oh wait, these chairs spin around... and hey, these bottles and brushes are easy to reach and throw across the room, and hey these magazines make for good throwing as well... well you get the idea.
So after an eternity of trying to keep him from destroying the place, it was finally his time. The barber was ready to close-up shop and even locked the door to keep more people from coming in so he could finish Andy and be done for the day. The barber was great, he was a elder gent with a Spanish accent. He was very kind and talked softly and gentle to Andy as he prepared him for his haircut. You could tell that his guy had given a LOT of children's haircuts in his life. Andy was pretty nervous during all the snipping and buzzing, so to ease his anxiety, I told him that if he was brave, and didn't cry, that I would take him for some ice cream afterwards. That certainly did the trick! He eeked out a few whimpers when the barber used the clippers on his neck, but other than that, he held perfectly still and now has one heck of a cute trim.
Once we were done, we headed across the street to Longs Drug Store to get an old-school ice cream cone. I found myself having very nostalgic flashbacks to when my dad would take me to Thriftys after church and buy Tanya and me ice cream cones for 15 cents a scoop. I don't think they have changed the technology much over the years. Still that same interesting-looking cyclindrical scooper-gun dipped in running water and a bunch of tubs of ice cream you can see through the glass. Andy was very clear on what he wanted.... when I lifted him to the glass, he pointed at the chocolate and said "coe-clat" in his Andy-speak. "coe-clat daddy, coe-clat". So I got him his first cone of coe-clat ice cream.
I think he was a little startled when I actually handed the cone to him. It took two hands and all his concentration to keep it upright, not to mention the added challenge of eating it. He carried it very carefully out of the store. I was certain he was going to drop it about 4 or 5 times, but he managed to carry it all by himself to the nearest bench. We sat down together in the quiet corner of the strip mall and I watched as he smooshed his face into the ice cream. He had the huge smile on his face as he devoured the thing. It ran all over his hands, down to his elbow and of course, all over his face. I must have gone though about 20 napkins trying to keep him somewhat clean. After while, I kinda gave-up on clean, and just enjoyed the moment. We didn't speak much, just sat there and he just ate. I asked him if he liked it a couple times and always got the same answer..."mmmmm hmmmm"