This Morning's Shave: Tedious Task or Calling From Above?

I hate shaving. I think I may have mentioned that on here and am pretty sure that it's in my 100 facts. Many things fuel this deep hatred. I think it began when I wasn’t able to grow facial until sometime around college. This caused me to grow an even deeper respect for that guy who had a mustache in 7th grade. Now, I am scared if I shave what I have, it may never come back. You might think that would be a good thing since I hate shaving. Not the case, it actually leads to cause #2. Every time I do shave, I always get a remark similar to, “You look like you’re about 12yrs old.” I think this bothers me so much because of cause #1. While those are both reason enough to hate the Gillette Company and all they represent, the main reason I hate shaving is I can never make it through a shave without bloodshed. When I get finished, the sink looks like I just sacrificed a cat.

The last time I broke out the Mach 3 was June 13. I only remember the exact date because that was the Friday before Shef and Melissa’s wedding. LB has a mandatory shaving clause that is applicable the night before any event where flip-flops are unacceptable. (Luckily, we go to a very informal church.) So, I made it exactly one month from yesterday without having to scrape a metal blade across the foliage that had grown in sporadic patches across my face.

Lasting a whole month is an impressive feat on my part. Every interval between shaving, LB and I go through the same process. We’ll start with a clean-shaven face. LB is happy that I have finally shaved and I am happy that I won’t have to do it again for a while. Phase 2 begins with LB’s bliss wearing thin and her asking me to shave again. I am able to deflect these initial requests at first by either changing the subject or ignoring them all together. Phase 3, the undergrowth has officially centimetered its way past the stubble stage and the full on LB assault begins. She tosses insults at my face fuzz as if they were word grenades. Eventually I despise these hate crimes against my chin more than the act of shaving itself, so I break down and head to the sacrificial sink.

Which sets the scene of this morning. There I was standing in front of the mirror with a clean-shaven face, ecstatic that I had made it through blood free. I was running late, so I didn’t admire my craftsmanship long and immediately jumped into the shower. It was going to be a good day. Then, all of sudden, the water started to feel…thicker? I looked down and blood was splattering onto the shower floor. As you could imagine there was great concern. I jumped out to discover that I had filleted my upper lip. I never even felt it, I still didn’t feel it. I would have never known if I hadn’t seen the blood.

The crazy thing is, now it’s probably about 5hrs later and I can’t see the incision. It's as if it never happened. Does lip skin have a quicker healing process than normal skin? Am I turning into a superhero that feels no pain and/or heals instantaneously like the cheerleader from Heroes?

I haven’t a guess as to how this slicing of the lip actually happened. I’m not a very hairy person and as far as I know I have never grown hair on my lips. So, why would I even have the razor on my lip? Maybe... it was meant to happen so my powers could be revealed to me? Fortunately, I can rest assured there is definitely no hair on my lip now.