Shaving Cream Madness

Mind if I lie on the couch here and tell you all about it?  It was humiliating and I am ashamed.  Yesterday morning I ran out of shaving cream.  Carrie kindly offered one of her twenty-three shaving cream containers that she keeps on hand for … well, I actually don’t know why she has that many.  Some people hoard food for the end of the world as we know it, but Carrie, evidently, stocks up on shaving cream.

Her first attempt to help me with my shaving cream crisis was to hand me a pink colored, estrogen reeking, floral printed, girl power contraption.  NO WAY TO THAT!  I coiled back refusing to even touch it.  As one would expect, I think my hairy chest became even hairier with my defiance.  What was unexpected, was my loving wife’s clearly offended reaction to my extremely reasonable, yet firm, dude of all dude’s position on this critical matter.

Carrie was relentless (Kevin’s quick note:  To be clear, it was definitely relentless and not nagging.  Yeah, never nagging.)  So, she returned to her inventory stockpile and, moments later, charged back to the battle armed with a baby blue colored shaving cream container.  Her eyes looked to be welling up as she presented me with her gift.  It was extremely thoughtful and caring.  She did go through a lot of trouble.  And, it was blue.  Baby blue, but still, it had blue and therefore can pass for manly, right?

I accepted her gift yesterday, but it would be this morning before I put it to use.  Did I mention yet that what I am about to share is humiliating and that I am ashamed?  Oh, and by the way, this couch is very comfortable.

I was home alone with the blue container in my right hand as I began to dispense the foaming content into my left hand.  What I saw next was utterly shocking.  Pink!  The foaming content was pink.  Yes, it was pink.  Pink, pink, pink.  And it was touching my hand.  I just stared at it … helplessly.  I was trapped.  What do I do now?  Well, I did the unthinkable.  I cringed and spread that stuff on my face.  I looked at my reflection in the mirror and saw a once proud man wearing pink shaving cream staring back at me.  The trauma I experienced was unbearable.  I had to look in the mirror at my miserable self for 83 seconds while I shaved it away.

It is now over, but that disturbing image of me keeps flashing back in my mind.  It won’t go away.

I will never, never-ever, allow that to happen to me again.  Today, I am buying twenty-four shaving cream containers to keep on hand.  I plan on being at CostCo today when it opens.  Oh, and if I see you there, can we talk about the weather?  I hear it’s supposed to rain.