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shorn

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Toronto, 2015.08.17

Today I accidentally shaved off my eyebrows with the assistance of our three year old. It started in the gloom of dawn. It being a Monday, I was looking a little shaggy, so before I shaved, I pulled out the beard trimmers. As usual, I first went to give my eyebrows a pass - something I do to prevent myself from looking like a Soviet era Russian Premier. A habit since the big 4-0 was rolling around.

Well, I was half way into my right brow when I realized that there were an awful lot of long hairs coming down. Looking at the mirror, I saw that I'd lost the entire eyebrow. I squinted at the setting on the beard trimmer, and saw that it had been changed from "5" to "1". Thanks, no doubt, to one of the residents of our home who was born in the current millennium. In fact, since I'd already caught our now seven-year-old son doing this a few years back, I'm pretty sure that this resulted at the agile hands of our three-year-old daughter.

There was nothing for it; I'd have to shave off the other brow, or spend the entire day at the office explaining myself. Sorry left brow, no one said life was fair!

At that point I had no eyebrows and a full beard and mustache. I looked; well, like something from a police report or a crime special. So I took the trimmer – still set on "1" – to the rest of my face. Technically, the longest hairs on my face are now those in my nostrils.

And yes, I got odd looks everywhere I went.

thanks for the new look, darling daughter

rand()m quote

Cats have nine lives. Which makes them ideal for experimentation.

—Jimmy Carr