Kids don't like facial hair

So, about 4 weeks before the boys were born I decided to stop shaving. I liked the superstitious angle to it. As if somehow me growing what amounted to a scraggly beard would somehow ensure a safe birthing experience.

Well, everthing turned out fine in the end and the kids were born healthy, but after that I was stuck in an endless loop of superstition. "If I shave now then something will go wrong" or "If I shave now, maybe they won't recognize me".

Or maybe I was just lazy.

Anyway, I finally decided to shave the darn thing off before the naming ceremony so that many years from now Lachlan and Finn won't be subjected to the horror (or the humor) of having to look at me doing my best Grizzly Adams. I can recall looking at photos of my father when I was a child with his big ol' handlebar mustache, and although it probably seemed like a cool idea to him at the time, they would just sent me into peals of laughter.

Me: "Dad! Check that out! That thing is sooooo seventies!"

Dad: "Shut up kid."

Plus, I don't think Heather was so keen on the beard, and I noticed that everytime I would go to kiss the boys they would get fidgety and uncomfortable. Both of these factors created a powerful index for cutting the whole business away.

So, it's a bit anti-climatic as I've already razored my face, but I wanted to pay homage to my one manly attempt at sporting a beard.

Paying homage to a beard? Weird. Ah well......

All hail facial hair.