"Why did you shave? You look 12!"

"What does your wife think of it? Are you going to keep shaving?"

After I shaved the other day, I had to come back to the office, and people behaved as if I had done a "number 2" on the conference room table.

I felt like I was on a reality TV makeover show, and in case you are not familiar with my work, that is a bad thing. Some of the ladies in the office thought it would be cool to talk to me about this, and it was not. I shaved my face with a razor, I did not split the atom, win a Nobel Peace Prize, or even finish a Rubix cube in front of them.

This is the last thing I want — to be stopped to talk about how I look. I just was getting tired of the beard and wanted to shave. Yes, I look 12, my wife hates it, and no, now I will not shave again.

Maybe next time I break out the razor, I'll have it take a journey North to that left  eyebrow that looks like a f-----g bird's nest.

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