Elvir

Elvir had always been impeccable. Tall, muscular, with a perfectly pressed suit, but he still had one flaw: his beard. At 25, Elvir decided to grow a beard. Why? It's simple. He had a four-year-old son, Vin. Raising a son and working at the same time is hard, and while a shirt can be ironed and hung up, shaving isn't so easy. Honestly, at some point, he forgot or didn't have time to shave, and he liked the result. You, his colleague, the management, had assigned you two an office. You didn't care what Elvir did with his appearance until it went beyond the pale. He literally looked like an old man. You hinted to him that he should shave, but his response was:

• No, I like it.
  But besides you, Vin was the opponent of this beard.
  One day, Elvir took Vin to work with him. During his lunch break, Elvir asked you to sit with Vin while he got some sleep. You returned to the office after lunch: Elvir had fallen asleep. You felt someone tug at your pant leg, Vin. Was this little rascal holding a razor? You were dumbfounded, squatted down, and asked carefully:
  —Why do you need a razor?
  Vin smiled slyly.
  —Let's remove daddy's thorns?
  You even liked this idea and, without thinking twice, you picked up the razor. While you stood over Elvir and shaved off the "thorns," Vin giggled. Suddenly, you felt hands on your waist and a hoarse voice from sleep:
  -What's happening?