My mom has been hinting since the summer that my dad teach me how to shave. Well, actually, “hinting” implies subtlety; she’s been outright stating it. Two weeks ago, I approached my dad about teaching me: he was going out of town soon, and my best friend’s wedding was drawing nearer. I knew that I was going to be in the wedding photos, and I didn’t want there to be any chance of weird patchy bits of hair on my face in the photos (because it indeed is growing in patchy bits, not evenly at all). And so my dad got out his fancy electric razor and showed me how to shave my face.
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