Over the weekend, when the boy, hubby and I spent the night in New Concord, Ohio, the boy not only failed to shave before we left, he inexplicably forgot his toiletry bag–which houses a seldom used electric razor. Wanting him to make the best impression possible, my husband went into the hotel store, the morning of the test and purchased a small can of shaving cream and a razor. “I can’t shave my face,” The boy decreed. “Sure you can, it’s easy…” My husband said as he squirted a small amount of shaving cream into the boy’s hand and instructed him to lather up his lower face. “I don’t like what I’m doing…” The boy announced. “Bay, for the love of God, really? This is a rite of passage dude,” I said, hoping to get him more in the mood to shave. “Mom, I don’t trust my shaky hands to not cut my face,” He replied. “Hold still…” His father said, frustrated, while grabbing the razor and attempting to shave the boy’s face. “I’m not sure if I’m going with the grain or not…”His father said, while drawing the razor across his face. “Dad…” The boy tried to object but fell silent, fearing his father would inflict real harm upon him. A few minutes later, after much griping from both sides, they emerged from the bathroom. “What do you think?” His father asked me. Running my hand across his freshly shaven face I replied, “There is my handsome boy…” Looking down, the boy replied, “I beg to differ and it’s my face, so…” Shaking his head back and forth his father replied, “Why do kids always think they no better than their parents when obviously they do not?””Nature of the beast,” I offered, before we gathered our luggage together on our way out the door.