dad's mirror

on christmas day at my childhood home, i had to bend down to see myself as i brushed my teeth in my dad's mirror. the unfinished wood bottom border of the mirror landed at my stomach. on the mirror were years old specks and flecks from the water splashing up, bouncing out of the ceramic white sink. 

i never came into my dad's bathroom as a kid. although it was seven steps from my bedroom, i only stepped foot in there a couple times. the bathroom was reserved for my father, and occasionally my brother. i never would have gotten in trouble if i'd have gone in, but it wasn't about that really. was part of it about not wanting to step foot in a bathroom that was owned by a teenage boy and an older man who wasn't very clean? possibly. but it wasn't my territory. and i have respect for people's territories. my territory was the downstairs bathroom, that i shared with every guest that came in here. 

the one time i remember entering my father's bathroom was when i was three years old. i wanted to learn what the heck my dad got up to every morning in there. i went over to the sink, saw his razor. and i turned my head up to look at the unfinished wood mirror. i could only see the top of my head. i thought, "hmm i've seen my dad shave his lips before, i'll do that. if he does it every day why aren't i doing it?"

    (gruesome part incoming)

i took the razor, and with a swift action more confident than anything i had ever done before and anything i will ever do in the future, i sliced my lips right open, in an effort to shave my mustache. i realized quickly maybe i didn't have the skill to shave, as i saw the blood dripping down onto the white tiled floor.  i couldn't see what had happened, i tried to stand on my tip-toes to get a better look into the mirror but it was no luck. my dad ran in with the biggest shock on his face at this horror movie esque vignette, scooped me up and took me downstairs. at that point my memory fades because i was at peace again, and memories tend to lean towards the startling. 

on christmas day i spat into the sink after brushing my teeth, a few droplets escaping the sink and hitting the mirror. i took my sleeve and wiped at the mirror, removing a few years of stains.