Fuzzy Wuzzy Was a Fan

18 Aug

Back when I was in sixth grade I got hit by a car.  It was totally my fault as I was jaywalking.  When the ambulance came to make sure I was okay (I was), there were only two things on my mind: my underwear and swimming.  My underwear was white with purple unicorns and the EMT was a cute guy.  When he examined my lower back I remembered the old addage about wearing clean underwear in case this kind of situation should occur, I mentally added the suggestion that the underwear should also be appropriate for cute EMT guys.  The swimming thoughts were there because we were staying at a hotel that night and I had finally been allowed to start shaving for the event.

This is not the Mister, FYI.

I say that I was allowed to start because Mom had pretty much forbid it until then.  She warned me that I’d have the whole rest of my life to shave and that once I started there would be no turning back.  Even at that young age, I knew that what she was saying was true but I couldn’t help wanting what I wanted.  It’s pretty sad how predictable that whole being a pre-teen is.  Your parents tell you what you should be doing, you listen and then go out and do the opposite only to learn that they were right.  Then, of course, wash, rinse and repeat.

Today, you’ll be happy to know, that I still shave.  I also still do things that my parents have advised me against with about the same results.  Shaving isn’t any fun.  If you’re a guy there’s all that razor burn.  If you’re a lady there is typically some masochistic form of yoga happening as the shower attempts to wash off the foam you needed a sun salutation to apply.  Blargh.

I thought of getting my legs waxed for our trip.  Wouldn’t it be great to forgo shaving for an entire month?  But then I thought about the perenial party pooper, my arm pits.  They weren’t going to take a vacation, so I couldn’t either.  I’d still need a travel shaving solution, preferably one that the Mister and I could both live with.  He’s pretty easy in this regard because he’s happy to shave with lotion or conditioner.  They have that stuff pretty much anywhere.  Due to the shower calisthenics, I typically need something a little more hardy.  Enter Kiss My Face Moisture Shave in Cool Mint.

This stuff is good.  It smells good, it feels good and it works better than shaving cream.  Never again will I have to buy one of the many tin cans of whatever.  I’m a convert to shaving lotion now.  The shave is so smooth that both times I’ve used it I’ve checked to see if the cover was still on because I couldn’t feel my razor.  When I hop out of the shower I can skip putting lotion on my legs.  And Henry can stop licking it off, thankfully.

Kiss My Face has added a blurb to the front of the package that tells me this size is perfect for travel.  Yes, we can take 3.4 oz on the plane.  I’d rather not because, as I mentioned before, the Mister is happy to use alternatives.  They’ll likely present themselves at hotels along the way.  I know that I’m going to suggest he use lotion or whatevs so we can save up the Moisture Shave and we’re going to return home with a nearly full container, aren’t we?  But kids, there are so many more thorny problems to have.  Like unicorn underwear, for example.


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