Many months ago, I picked up a brand new Gillette Fusion Mach 23 razor not for me, but for Ian. His upper lip had developed a decent young man mustache and despite his desire for a full, thick mustache, it's not in the cards for him yet.
Years ago, when he was maybe 3 or 4, I lathered up his face and gave him a spoon. We "shaved" together and it was something he remembers today. I was thinking of the spoon shaving when I put away his razor for some day...
So I showed the razor to Ian and promised that when he is ready, I'll show him how to use it. I think I remember my Dad doing the same, but I don't remember the lesson - instead I remember trying to figure it out on my own -like everything else, and failing miserably.
To my surprise, Ian called me upstairs last night. Into the bathroom he led me and to my surprise the razor is out. He was ready and I was bursting with pride that he wanted my help.
So, I had him shadow me as we shaved our upper lips. It was a nice quiet moment, capping a great vacation week that had a lot of just he and I time. Ian is an amazing kid. It's become apparent how I try to focus on remembering these moments as my time with Reagan in the house is quickly coming to an end. Time has become very evidently limited. Fleeting moments.
As I drove in to work this morning I racked my brain trying to remember my parents teaching me to shave. Those are not the memories I have and am disappointed in myself for not remembering them. Instead, I remember the fear and excitement of trial and error. I am certain that these memories are not fair to my parents.
Hopefully Ian will be kinder.
Which reminds me to talk to Ian about first aid for shaving cuts...
(Extra points awarded for knowing the title of this post is a quote from "Sixteen Candles")
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