A break from the Ragnar journey.
I must inform you of this war my wife and I have found ourselves battling with my oldest daughter for the past six years. I knew it was coming. It was predicted. The writing was on the wall. I read about it in parenting books. Well I really didn't read the parenting books. But my wife did and told me about it. I did read the articles about it in the Wall Street Journal, Men's Fitness and National Geographic. On a side note fellas. That National Geographic isn't what it used to be. I mean c'mon, now that your allowed to look, they really aren't all that thrilling to see. I digress. I even overheard guys talking about it at Home Depot. What was this great dilemma going on here. It was the amount of razors a teenage girl can go through in a weeks time and how much they cost.
I mean how many razors does a girl need in a weeks time to shave. Can't have much hair growing on her legs at such a young age. And the blond hair would at least give her another three days. Am I right about that. I will be honest, I do like their mother to have smooth legs. But there better be no boy alive that likes my daughter's smooth legs.
The oldest one was going through 3-4 razors a week. I only noticed when I would step on them in the shower. Now the razor I could avoid by seeing it before I stepped on it. But it was the damn clear plastic cover that I could not see and always hurt like hell when stepped on. So much for a nice relaxing shower. Time for that drink and a new tactic.
She was to be allowed one razor a week because that's what her mother used. And they were not cheap to begin with. Especially when you go from the standard one blade to the "Princess Smoothness" eight blade version. Those also double as a paint stripper. I know. You should see the chest I repainted.
We thought we were winning the war. Or at least some of the battles up until about three years ago. That is when the youngest one joined her sister's army on the Eastern Front. At first we had the youngest one on our side. But it turned out that she was merely a spy for her sister and provided valuable supply information. Kind of this sister blood thing going on. You know, "when mommy and daddy aren't home, who will hear you scream."
Their mother had this trust with the youngest one. That's how the spies do it. Build up that trust. Their mother would give out a razor on Sunday night and then hide the rest. Only she and the youngest one knew where they were. The youngest one knew in case one was needed and mommy was not home to give one out. Soon both daughters were taking from the secret stash. I hated having to pat my girls down for contraband every time they came out of our bedroom.
Now I was going to stay out of this whole thing until I was told we may have to take out a second mortgage to keep our girls all smoothed up. Oh boy don't want to be bad dad for this reason but game on girls. A new year was comin' and time to change up the battle plans.
The peace talks were held in the car on a family trip during Christmas. New rule. Four razors are given to each of you at the beginning of the month. You decide when and how you use them. If you need more than four then you are to purchase them. You can buy as many as you want. Heck you can even buy stock in Schick. Lord knows I did about three years ago. Now why didn't I come up with this rule long ago. How simple. Now I know when two parties come to the table they are supposed to each have concessions. Now the girls brought the use of only four razors a month. I wondered what we brought other than a firm rule about what they are now to do. Nope. We just agreed to buy them more razors when they run out of the four. Neither one of them have a job so where does their money come from. Oh well.
And this little story is only a little bit of what it is like being the dad in a house of girls. No trading for anything though. Except maybe some type of lifetime reusable razor. And you wonder why I don't shave.