Shave or Die

So guess who's not on unemployment anymore? That's right. Josh is the correct answer. Last week, on his last day of class, he was 'called to the office', so to speak. Apparently they had a job come up for him and it was time to give him the good news. And by 'good' news, I really am using the term in it's most abstract form. With each new temporary job he gets, he seems to go one step further down the workin' man's food chain. This job is the doozy of them all though. It will last a whopping five to six weeks and then it's see ya later alligator. Oh sure, it comes with the benefit of massive overtime which will aid us once we get into survival mode for the next round of unemployment. But after his first day, it turns out that the job just keeps getting better and better. He's working in a refinery. Yeah. You heard me right. A refinery. He's a heating and air conditioning service tech, and he'll be working as far from his industry as humanly possible. However, that's not the really fun part. Turns out that this refinery isn't exactly the safest place to be working in the world. It's the kind of job where people actually die while working there. Yup. Die. When the alarm sounds in the building, that means 'get your butt to the oxygen tent and get your mask on or you're gonna bite it.' So during orientation today, they told them that facial hair (short of a well-trimmed mustache) isn't permitted. Who doesn't like a good key-stone cop mustache, right? Apparently, when you place the oxygen masks on your face, facial hair can hinder the seal, therefore placing you in imminent danger. Awesome. So Josh, in order to work today, had to go to Wal-Mart during a break and buy a razor and shaving cream. He then proceeded to white trash it up and shave all of his beard off in the Wal-Mart bathroom sink. In a public bathroom far away from us, there is a very angry custodian unclogging a sink in Wal-Mart. I feel like cousin Eddie's family from the National Lampoon movies. I say, (in my best hick-accent) "Don't mind the hubby, he's just shavin' in the Wal-Mart bathroom, gettin' ready for work." All I need now is a beer, a mobile home on wheels and a couple more kids. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.) When Josh was telling me about this on the drive home, I was giggling uncontrollably. First of all, you must understand that Josh hasn't been beardless for more than one day in all the time I've been with him. In a single moment of freakish curiosity, I had him shave it. Turns out, he looks like fourteen-year old boy when clean shaven. Not cool. I already feel old as is. I don't exactly need to look like I'm robbin' the cradle here. So, I'll be the first to admit that when he got out of his car, I couldn't stop laughing. It just doesn't look right. But it's either shave or die in this job. So shave he did. And shave he will, until the job is done. Until then, I have to live with baby-face Josh. Alex keeps asking, "Daddy, are you gonna put your beard back on?" It gets me to start giggling again. Honestly though, I'm not sure what bothers me more. The fact that he has a job where he's in the midst of potential danger every day or the fact that this job is so extremely far out of his line of education. I suppose it's just funny. Each job brings one more 'what the heck?' moment. Huh. Who knew that having a good clean shave everyday can be the one thing that saves your life?