A Rite of Passage

Something has been happening to Chet. His voice sounds funny. His shoulders are getting wider. And his upper lip has gotten hairy. So last night he asked Jack to teach him how to shave. Apparently the unbladed bubble bath toy razors I bought for him 12 years ago are longer sufficient.

So after showers, and in front of a very small mirror, Jack first showed him how to lather up.

Then Chet watched carefully as Jack said something about grain and rinsing the blade and a bunch of other advice that doesn't apply to me and I wasn't paying attention to. I was too busy noticing how dirty the mirror is. (This is Jack's mirror. My mirror is clean. Just so you know.)

Then Chet made me stop thinking about how big he is getting when he accidentally spread some shaving cream in his mouth.

He  got it all cleaned up, though, and was finally ready to rid himself of his fuzz.

So Jack carefully showed him how much pressure to use, how to contort his mouth to get to different whiskers, and how to avoid digesting anymore shaving cream.

So now my funny-sounding boy, with his ever-broadening shoulders, is clean-shaven and well-educated in the shaving process.

And I am feeling a little lost, wishing he was shaving with his plastic razor and bubbles again.