Puzzling

G'day again, everyone, hopefully the new season is treating you all well. Here in Oz the autumn is proving to be very warm. Very warm also is the thirtieth story in Aberrant Selected, entitled, Puzzled at Himself. This story I wrote purely for fun. Usually when I write I have some theme, or motif, to convey. This story though was written just to tell a funny story, one that happened to me. Let me explain.
     Around six months after I turned fifteen years of age, one morning, washing my hands and looking at myself in my father's shaving mirror in the bathroom, I noticed a black hair sticking out of my chin. With much consternation then, I realised I had to fully lather my face, and give myself a manly shave. Sure it was only one hair, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.
     The next morning, again washing my hands in the bathroom and idly looking at myself in my father's shaving mirror, I was annoyed to see my cheeks, mouth area, and under my chin were covered in hairy stubble. Since I shaved yesterday, I decided not to shave that morning. My mother had other ideas. At the breakfast table she told me to shave before eating, despite my protest that I shaved yesterday. She then informed me that since I was now obviously a man I would have to shave every day. And I still shave every day.
      So Puzzled at Himself was written just to describe the above incident, but the rest of the tale is the product of fancy. I am still surprised, at the age of forty-five, that my facial hair grew so incredibly quickly, and so very abundantly, and I still choose to see it as a good sign. Who knows?