The Sheep are Sheared...

A few members of our FLOCK have grown rather "woolly" over the summer, not necessarily on purpose but due to a rather insanely busy schedule. So today, "Baaa"rock and "Raaaa"yan had an appointment with a shearer at the shearing shed. With the help of my experienced sheep dog Rosco, we were able to corral them into the Tahoe for transportation. Once we got moving, they became resigned to the fact and (I like to think) even looked forward to the whole process. During the ride, there was some concern about the fit of a football helmet after the shearing, to which I replied, "We can wrap your head in toilet paper, like a mummy, to replace the woolly mop you are losing." They just have no appreciation for true humor.

THE AFTER PHOTO

So after the incredible transformation from woolly sheep to handsome human, Brock wanted to know what I was going to call him, since I could no longer call him "Baaa"rock. I looked him straight in the eyes (which I could now see) and simply said, "Hello, Elder!"