After a long day of travel my face was showing an unshaven shadow of stubble. We boarded our flight when my daughter Rachel, who was about four at the time, began staring intently at my whiskers.
“Daddy,” she finally asked, “why do you have splinters in your face?”
It was one of those beautiful moments of childlike curiosity, wonder, and simplicity that makes a parent smile. D’Aun heard her question too, but she had to look away from me to avoid both of us breaking out in laughter. Knowing it was a sincere question, I said to Rachel, “Honey, those …