The Bear with Less Hair

This little bear now has less hair. All week I had visions of little hands reaching up, trying to grab ahold of the deathly-sharp stylist scissors. But that didn't happen. Not at all. Instead she slurped on a chocolate milk, as still as still could be. 

I bought the chocolate milk in the morning and every time the fridge opened a small voice would ask duice, duice? By the time we got to the salon and in the chair she was so focused on (finally) getting the duice no amount of wetting, brushing, trimming and fluffing was going to pull her away.  

Before: waiting our turn.

After: trying to sneak away from the camera.

Also: 

Taking calls.