This morning, Sammy came out for breakfast, sat down, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and adopted a grumpy expression. "Mom," he said, "you better come home from your haircut looking nice. Because you always look new with new hair!" Then he broke into a grin and giggled because he couldn't keep up his own ruse any longer.
"OK, Buddy, I'll do my best."
I hope I met his standards.
(Note: Sabrina said, "I do NOT like your hair, Mommy. I want it to be long." Can't win 'em all.)