I am the oldest of three children, now 54 years old. When I was very little, just walking, I went into the bathroom and climbed on the toilet one day and took my father’s razor from the back of the toilet where he kept it. I wanted to be like him, so I started shaving. This was not a safety razor, but the kind that flips open that barbers sometimes use to get a really close shave.

The bathroom was a mess with blood. I had relatively few cuts considering, but I did have one that left a bad scar under my right eye. (Managed to miss either eye).

My Dad was horrified when he found out what had happened and felt terrible. He was a good and decent man and died 4 years ago. If the subject ever came up he would always admit what a mistake it was for him to have kept it there, but didn’t realize how little ones can get into things.

The first Christmas after he had died, my Mom gave me this razor, the razor with which the incident happened. I didn’t know he still even had it! For some reason that is a very special Christmas gift because it represents what a really good parent he was, even though parents can make mistakes. And the fact he was so remorseful that the incident happened will always tell me how much he loved me.

This one probably did not make you laugh, but you have to admit it is an unusual Christmas gift.