By Delynda Pilon

Why are guys so in love with facial hair?My son was so proud when he found out he could grow a beard that he went kind of nuts with it. Now I have a hard time remembering what he looked like pre-beard. And it isn’t about a girl’s reaction either. Nope. In fact the strangest thing is that it is other guys who are jealous of his facial hair.
I thought this was just a wierd teenage anomoly, then when I was at the Foremost grad a couple of the kids were talking about another kid’s face fur. The girl said, “No, no one wants to touch it.” The guy said, rather softly, “Well, I do.”
Hmmmm.
Anway, ever since my boy started bragging about his luxurious beard, my dad, who one would think is old enough to know better, started growing his beard out.
I remember him doing this a couple of times when we were kids.
It sucked.
Seriously.
Not only do I hate it when someone leaves facial hair in the sink (GEEZ!! CLEAN IT UP ALREADY!) but my dad used to think it was way cool to wake us up in the morning with a whisker rub. There is nothing worse than getting a whisker rub. It’s just like sandpaper raking across your skin.
You know that look your cat gets on his face when you pet his fur backwards? (Okay, maybe I am the only person who works at annoying my cat like that). Well, anyway  I feel exactly like my cat looks when that happens.
But lately dad has been thinking about getting a shave.
Seems  he was over at the store the other day when someone (Ha, Ha, Good one Manny!) referred to him as Papa Smurf.
He came back grumbling and tried to blame it on me. I told him it wasn’t my fault, and ever since then when he walks into the room I start in with the La, La, LaLaLaLa, La, La Lalala....
He growls. My boy looks at me in confusion. I tell him its the Smurf song and he asks me what a Smurf is. Geesh, what are they teaching in school these days anyway? How can the kid graduate and not know that a Smurf is a little sweet natured blue creature that lives in a commune with 99 guys and one gal?
Dallas: Sound kind of perverted.
I didn’t say anything. Instead I gave him my backwards petted cat glare.
But dad got the reference just fine. He even started muttering about a shave and a hair cut. I offered to dig out the dog’s razor, but he got all grumpy (Grumpy Smurf instead of Papa Smurf?) and stalked away.
Well, I actually might give in and dig out the scissors and carve him back down to normal, especially with what we can only hope will be some summer heat coming in soon. While I’m at it maybe Bob Parkins might like to come over and get his ears lowered and a shave as well.
Then I’ll only have my son left to think about. Not only would I like to see a shave, but man it would be nice if he got a hair cut too.
Of course, after checking out the grad photos of the St. Michael’s adults that got showcased during their talks at the ceremony, and seeing Kelly Van Ham before and now, I do have some hope for my Dallas...