A close encounter with an old razor
The medicine cabinet was crusty and rusty, much like me. And like me, it’s old enough to be a museum piece. The cabinet was installed in my parents’ bathroom when it was added onto their farmhouse more than 60 years ago. I was just a tyke at the time, and flushing the toilet was infinitely more interesting than a smallish cabinet that sported a mirrored door. Besides, we had another mirror in the house, so I already knew what I looked like. It was clear that the old medicine cabinet needed to be replaced or refurbished. Replacing it would cost money and I had a can of white spray ...