Is it better to ask permission or forgiveness?

I feel pretty bad. With Riley about 500 miles away, working her weekend away at another hospital I went and did something without telling her. I am not sure how she'd react so I went through with it. Ultimately, it doesn't even effect her, its so innocent and when she returns at the end of this week (not soon enough), she'd never even know. I have grown a mustache. In all my days of shaving, I have mixed things up: chin goatee, full goatee, shaved head with full beard, shaved head with (some) hair on top and sideburns, complete lack of shaving. I've never had just a mustache. I was cleaning myself up today and in combination, my razor seemed to get overly dull and I also ran out of shaving gel with a sole strip of stubble yet to be shaven. Looking in the mirror, squinting a little, I looked just like my dad. I thought it was cool, at least for the weekend. But while I see my dad in the mirror, I hear Riley in my head telling me how ridiculous I look. And when I say thought it was cool, I mean to say I know it looks ridiculous. But still, I couldn't tell her. I'm certain she suspects something anyway. She can probably hear the whiskers scratching the mic on the phone. So now, do I shave it off in the morning after a quick trip to Target to reload my shaving cream stock and pretend it never happened? Do I lie awake all night wondering whether to call and wake Roo and spill the beans. I'd hate to be tagged in a facebook picture and have her see it before I can tell her. Do I run out know to take care of it before Jessica gets home and laughs at me? I thought about driving up to D.C. to lay it out there and let her see it and feel it first hand? We've been married for 3 months now...together for years on top of that. I have no reason to worry about something so insignificant...and yet no reason to dig myself into such a hole over something so silly. Perhaps just missing her so much for the past few weeks has amplified the emotion. Perhaps my oversensitivity pushes me in the wrong direction when it comes to be open and honest with her. Perhaps the problem I am facing is really with myself and no matter what she thinks of the scruff beneath my shnoz, I need to face the mirror and figure out how I could let myself run out of shaving cream in the first place.