"Why do you shave?"

Ray is standing in the large Vecchio bathroom, slathering shaving cream over his face while looking in the mirror. Behind him is his daughter Grace, age five, looking very quizzical. She sits on the closed commode, and perches her little chin in her folded hands.

"Daddy, why do you shave?" She asks again impatiently.

"Grace, I have to shave. I don't like beards."

"You should let it grow. Then you would have more hair on your head. Then your head won't get cold." She states this with sweet innocence.

Realizing she is concerned for him, he hides his smile. "Thank you so much, sweetheart. I'll think about it, but right now, I like my face smooth."

"Oh. Okay. Does mommy shave her face?"

"No, mommy shaves her legs. Which makes her legs soft and pretty."

Grace thinks about this as she continues to watch.

"Does it hurt when you shave?"

"No, only if you cut yourself. But I am very careful." He looks at her in the mirror. "Grace, a razor is very dangerous. You are not allowed to touch my razor or your mommy's. Do you understand?"

Looking at him with big eyes, wondering how he knew what she was thinking, she nods her head. "Okay, daddy. I won't touch the razor."

Ray finishes his shaving, rinses out the sink, and places his razor on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet. With a smile, he winks at Grace and leaves the bathroom.

Grace hops up and goes to the sink. Knowing she is not supposed to touch the razor, and not able to reach it now anyway, she grabs the can of shaving cream and pulls off the top. Inspecting it to see how it works, she manages to push the top button and make some foam come out. Delighted at her endeavor, she continues to push, watching the foam erupt all over her hands and fall in to the sink. Putting the can down, she wipes some of the foam on her own face. Just able to see the top of her head in the mirror, she pulls over her stool she uses when she brushes her teeth. Stepping up on the stool, she looks in the mirror with a big grin. Giggling, she adds more foam to her face, and becomes bolder and adds some to her hair. The can is picked up again for more foam, and now arms and neck are getting covered as well.

"Grace Ann Vecchio." The voice of doom booms down on her and makes her jump with surprise. She drops the can in the sink, and looks up to see her parents staring at her from the doorway. A flash, then another comes from the camera in her mother's hand as it captures her astonished expression of getting caught.

Ray walks over to Grace and looks with her in the mirror. Laughing himself, he helps arrange the shaving cream to a point on her head.

"You did a wonderful job, Gracie. You look like a vanilla ice cream cone."

"I just wanted to see what it looks like on my face." She is still hesitant about getting in to trouble for playing with the shaving cream. But both her parents are still smiling and laughing, so she decides to do something more.

"Daddy, come here. I want to give you something." She smiles rather wickedly at Ray, and watches as he moves in closer to her. She turns around to face him, and before he knows what happens, she plants a big wet shaving kiss on his cheek.

"Grace." He is quick to whine, but looks down at her playful smile. He tickles her, making laughter fill the room, and leans in to whisper to her an idea of his own.

"Mommy, can you come here?" Grace beckons in a serious tone.

"I don't think so, Grace. I don't need a shaving kiss." Louise is on to the two as they make plans and point at her.

"I think you do, mommy." Ray replies as he rushes to Louise's side and pulls her over to their daughter who is waiting with giggles and puckered lips.

Louise is gently pushed to Grace, and graciously gets her shaving kiss. Not to be outdone by father and daughter, she then scoops a handful of the foam up and quickly applies it to Ray's face. More giggles erupt from Grace as she watches her daddy grab her mommy for a really good shaving kiss. Grace is then pulled in to their embrace, and the three are soon decorating with more shaving cream from the can.

Rosa Vecchio, hearing the commotion from downstairs, has finally reached the bathroom. The sight before her delights her, and a big grin emerges on her face. She stands at the door; her arms crossed in front of her, and watches as the three stop to look at her.

"Ma. We were just... uh.... shaving." Ray suddenly feels five years old himself waiting to be scolded. Louise watches their interaction with interest as a blob of shaving cream slides down her cheek.

Ma winks at her granddaughter, then aims her question to her son. "Who is going to clean up this mess, Raimundo?"

"Ah, well, I suppose we all will." He sees the twinkle in his Ma's eyes.

"I think that will be best." Turning to leave, wanting desperately to laugh out loud, she is stopped by slimy hands clutching her arm.

"Grandma, I think you need a shaving kiss, too."

The End