Okay, I was finally ready. For what? To go through one of the great rituals of becoming a man, that’s what! I know I may be a bit young for my first shave, but hey I’m pretty sure I saw some of that fuzz of my face starting to get darker and even a little thicker. I mean, I don’t want to be walking around school with a couple ugly hairs sticking out around my mouth, do I? What if some girl comes up and says, “What’s this?” and she reaches out grabs one with her fingernails and pulls. O-w-w-w-w!! Nope, no way I’m going to let that happen.
So first off, I didn’t want my mom to be in there cooing all over me when this happened. How embarrassing! This is guy stuff, right? Even manly man stuff. Naw, I’d do it on my own. I mean, how hard could it be? There must be a couple billion guys out there who know how to shave. And by definition, half of them have below average intelligence. Hey, some even shave their heads too and I don’t see them looking like war victims or anything. So once again, how hard could it be? I wanted to use an electric shaver, but when I checked out the prices, I decided I’d go the old-fashioned, natural way. But even regular razors can cost a ton, at least they did my our local drugstore.
That’s when I had a great idea. “That’s what dollar stores are for,” I told myself. And sure enough, I was able to find 3 razors for a dollar at the one closest to me. And each razor had two blades in it, certainly enough weaponry to tackle my new “beard.” (I know “beard” is kind of strong for what I got, but that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.)
“That’s using your head,” I told myself. “No use making myself go broke just to shave one time. And who knows, this shave might last a week or more.” So I got all ready when my mom was out shopping or something. Got in the bathroom with Razor #1 and my brand-new can of dollar shaving cream. Got the water pretty darn hot and put it on a handcloth and soaked my face for maybe 30 seconds. That’s to soften up your beard. (I’d read that on the web.) Then I shook the can of shaving cream, squirted some in my hand, and put it all over my face real nice, ya know. In the mirror I looked a little like Santa Claus, but whatever.
I was ready! I took out that razor and tested its sharpness by carefully running my index finger along the blade. Just to be sure, ya know. Huh?? The blades were really dull. But then I saw that I’d forgotten to take the plastic cap off. Stupid me! So after I fixed that boo boo, I tested the blades again.
Big mistake. A double line of bright red appeared on my finger followed by the same color of blood making a grand appearance. Dang, it hurt!! I immediately put the finger in my mouth and tried to find the box of band-aids in the cabinet. Finally found it, but have you tried to unwrap a band-aid with one hand in your mouth, then put it on a finger gushing blood like Old Faithful? Try it sometime.
Well, there went close to ten minutes I wouldn’t ever get back. Three band-aids it took. But now I was mad. I had to get back to the real job. No doubt the blades were sharp enough. So now I washed my face — trying to keep that bandaged finger dry — and soaked it again, then put on a new layer of cream. Finally I was ready again. Luckily I had cut my left hand so I still had my good one to shave with. I took the blade and put in next to my ear and pulled down gently. It started off fine, then the blade caught on something. I pulled a little harder. $%&@&%!! More blood. I think I must have popped a pimple or something. But I didn’t want to stop for another 10 minutes of emergency rescue work so I kept going, being as careful as I could and still be touching the skin.
Hey, for 33 cents, that razor could do some cutting. I’m surprised I’ve never seen a super hero use one. But unfortunately it was mostly my skin, not the hairs, that were getting decimated. And somehow I managed to cut my lips in three places and missed the hairs that I was aiming at close by. (It didn’t help that the shaving cream made the bigger hairs really hard to find.)
I really don’t want to go into too much more detail. After all, this blog is kind of PG rated. All I can say is it didn’t go as well as I thought it would.
Look at me now. My mom really freaked when she saw me after she got home. There was no way I could lie about what had happened. What kind of story could I have made up? Hey, Mom, you wouldn’t believe it. I was brushing my teeth — Already that would make the story sound suspicious — when a colony of frighteningly aggressive army ants swarmed all over me? I couldn’t come up with anything. I had to fess up. She took it better than I thought she would and she helped put new bandages on my face that were defintely better placed. But now I can’t talk! Or eat! But she says she’ll help me take them off in a couple hours and at least maybe the bleeding will have stopped. And even then, I’ll probably have to have my dinner through a straw because of my cut lips. Looks like chicken broth for Ol’ Crankenfuss. Ooh, maybe I could plead for a milk shake.
Anyway I’m blogging this now, before the bandages come off, to give you dudes some warnings about your first shave:
1) You should probably wait until you have some hairs big enough for a razor to find.
2) Forget the razor. Better to start off with an electric shaver.
3) Be very careful of any zits you may have neglected to mark with little flags or something.
4) And be sure to have your phone nearby so you can call 911 if needed.
Okay, it’s almost time for my mom to do the best she can to revitalize the patient. As far as school goes tomorrow, that’s looking pretty iffy. Hey, maybe I can pretend it’s Halloween and I’m going as a bandage display case.
Ah, who am I kidding?
From a young and proud adolescent,
who now definitely needs an anti-depressant,
’cause his skin is bright red, almost iridescent,
and for now has become a convelescent.