Thursday, May 9, 2013

Facial hair (mine, not Alec's)

One of my earliest memories is of the day my dad shaved off his beard. I must have been six or seven, which should tell you something about my memory in general, but anyway,,, 

We were at the beach, and Dad must have decided it was time for a change. He came out of the bathroom, beardless, and Tim and I jumped to out feet. 

"Dad!" we yelled, "You look like Superman!"

Dad obliged us by twisting a lock of hair into an "S" curl on his forehead and wearing a beach towel as a cape.

Fast-forward to a few decades later, I grow a beard of my own. (I think of t as my "lazy dad" beard, because I've decided I'm too tired to shave.)


Hazel doesn't like it. In fact, she tells me every day that it scratches her, and she doesn't want me to kiss her goodnight while I have the beard, (Luckily, Elise and Alec don't seem to be bothered as much.) 

Still, after several months, I give in and get rid of the beard. 


I walk out of the bathroom. Hazel sees me.



"Dad!" she says, "You look like a clown!

(Also, she says my stubble scratches her.) 



1 comment: