I shaved the damn thing today. I feel human again. I let that beard fester on my face for 23 days. At the end of that time, it was still patchy in a couple of spots, and some parts of my face just completely rejected the concept of hair. The experiment was complete.
I shaved in the bathroom while Daisy was taking her bath. Much to her dismay though, I didn't capture the clippings as I went.
Daisy: PLEASE save the hairs for me! PLEEEEASE!
Daisy: Why not?
Me: Because it's gross. Just no.
Daisy: That's ok. I have a new idea! Want to hear it?
Me: You have terrible ideas.
Daisy: (laughing) I know! Want to hear it anyway?
Me: Oh, alright.
Daisy: Shave off all your hair! Go bald!!
Me: I knew this was going to be a terrible idea.
Daisy: Daddy! Do it!
Me: No way. At least with a beard, I knew I could remove it at any time. If I shave my head, I'm stuck with super short hair for a loooong time.
Daisy: Ok, grow your hair really long! Down to your butt!
I distracted her from this thought train by shaving off my beard in pieces, and documenting as I went. For your viewing pleasure, I present The Many Facial Hair Stylings of Mike aka How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love the Mutton Chop.
I cleaned up the sink after I was done, but a few hairs eluded me. I glanced at them, rolled my eyes, and said, "Daisy, there are a few hairs left in the sink. If you want them, they're yours."
She squealed like I had just told her we were flying to Disneyland on a plane made out of lollipops. She fetched a ziploc bag and now about half a dozen of my beard hairs live on her night table. Kids are weird.