I believe the best way I could describe myself when I was five is as a cross between those minions from Despicable Me and Dennis the Menace. I had the capacity for mischief that surpassed most children and I think the only reason why my parents still kept me around despite my terrible antics was because I gave them hours of recorded comedy or because everyone seemed to like my voluminous cheeks.
One day, as I often did, I watched my father shave. There was something particularly thrilling and magical about the disappearance of white foam from my fathers face. I don't really know why, but I got a kick out of it. My father is the epitome of manliness. Having climbed Kilimanjaro as a sixteen year old and having traveled all over the world.. Well.. he was a role model; a hero.
So, I'm watching my dad shave and an absolutely enlightened thought occurred to me. I was going to shave.
In Kenya, we broke for lunch and came back to school after our "break" and on one fateful day I did it.
I ran into a problem as soon as I walked into the bathroom. I had no beard to shave, no mustache to trim. I sat there long and hard, puzzled. Then I noticed my eyebrows.
I figured, hey, its the next best thing and since I don't have any other sort of facial hair.. why not? It's a miracle I didn't shave off something important (like my nose) but lo and behold! I had shaved off one of my eyebrows. For some reason I did not deem it necessary to shave the other one. Maybe I wanted to retain some individuality and not copy my dad fully. Who knows.
Off to school I went and when I got home to my parents...