I'm not a fan of shaving. Nor am I a fan of beards. So I try to stay between the two for as long as is permissible. Having gone a week before becoming duly fed up with the itchy scratchy uncomfortableness, in perhaps the only country in the world where I have more facial hair than the majority of men, including those twice my age, whereas fifteen-year-olds frequently put me to shame back home, and some of them young women, albeit none that I know, but they grow out of it, regardless, I shaved the other day, after a week of freedom, only to arrive to school to teach and have a child observe in true to form broken English, with a smile stretched ear to ear, while rubbing his own cheeks,"You, you clean your face!"
Yep. I shaved.
Wait til I get a haircut.
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