Cleanly Shaven

Sam has a new obsession. Facial hair. Beards to be exact. He is petrified of growing a beard. He ran in my room as soon as he woke up the other morning and said, "Mama, Mama! Am I gonna' have a beard one day?" To which I made the mistake of answering, "Well, yes son. When you're older, like Daddy, you will be able to grow hair on your face and have a beard if you'd like." Bad mistake on my part. My child, still wiping the sleep from his eyes, had a full fledged melt down, crying and pleading with me to promise him that he'll never have a beard. To which I responded, "Okay, okay, Sam. You can just shave your face every day and then you won't have any hair on your face." Another bad mistake on my part. Because it seems that my four year old is terrified by the mere idea of hair growing from his sweet little face. "This, Mama! This!" he shouted to me, while rubbing his soft cheeks. "This is how I want my face to be. Forever. I don't want to be a Daddy. I don't want to have hair on my face." Cue the tears and the panic attack. So I assured him that there was a special lotion he could rub on his face when he's older to prevent him from growing any facial hair. And it calmed him down. He has since told me numerous times that he really, really hopes he can get some of that special cream when he's older because he doesn't want a beard. I reassure him that I'm sure he'll have plenty of that special cream. A little white lie. A necessary little lie to keep my oldest from needing to breathe into a brown paper bag. Lord, forgive me.