Okay, so here is the deal.... Bear cub #6 had never had a haircut. In Daddy’s opinion, it just does not work to have a karate-chop executing, manly little toddler with the name of “Howard Honor Phillips,” running around, looking like a girlie-boy. To the precious ladies in his life who reverence the out-of-control golden locks as a living remembrance to perpetual babyhood, the idea of placing the blade to his hair was embraced with tear felt reluctance, but as a necessary rite of passage.

After much discussion, I announced to the entire bear clan my theory that the little boy’s behavior (actually, he is very sweet) would immediately improve after the haircut. After all, everyone knows that long hair fosters bad behavior. My children reminded me of all my long-haired Founding Father friends, so I quickly shifted the argument. Nevertheless, recognizing that enough is enough, and that there will be no little hippie boys in the Phillips family, I announced the date of the hair execution. Thus, Saturday, October 25, was set aside for “the shearing of the bear.”

We drove the unwitting, happy little bear to the appointed place where the deed was to be done.

Above is the evidence.

The victim awaits the hair execution.

It begins.

“Trust me, little boy, just trust me,” says the blade-toting Barber of San Antonio.

In the end, order is returned to our peaceful community. Though the process was emotionally taxing, the cub emerged unscathed. Most importantly, as the final golden lock of rebellion fell to the ground, a new, brighter, happier bear emerged. All is well with the world.