I shaved my legs too early. How do I know this? Well, my mom found out and she wasn't happy. I was at my next door neighbor Janet's house the day before sleep-away camp. Janet was older than me. Janet was in middle school and I was in the fourth grade. She convinced me my legs needed to be shaved. (Hey, I am half Indian and I'd say my legs were hairier that most other nine year olds.) She handed me a razor and some shaving cream and told me to get to work in her bathroom. So I did. Big mistake.
When I went home my mom was almost hysterical. "What'd you do to your legs?," she asked.
I responded with the obvious: "I shaved them."
"But you're only nine, you don't need to shave yet," she retorted.
"Yes, I do. Janet told me I did."
At this point my mother's fury doubled or maybe tripled. Then she said: "well, at least you'll be at camp for a week and the next time I see you most of your leg hair will have grown back." And that was that. Off to camp I went.