poetry • art • marriage • momhood • faith

A Hairy Situation

Back in 8th grade health class, I remember one day when the class was split, guys & girls.  In the midst of awkward sex ed discussions, I remember being told to make a list of qualities & attributes we would seek in a potential spouse.  We were encouraged to put both character and physical traits.  Even then I had "clean shaven" on my list of preferences.  No big surprise then that 5 years later I fell for a knob from the Citadel. 

For those not in the know, Citadel freshmen (aka "knobs") get to sport a bald head their first year.  That's not what I had in mind by "clean shaven."  But that also means that there wasn't a hair on his chinny chin chin.

Fast forward a decade.  And I find myself quite uncomfortably married to the Mountain Man of the South. Ugh. I don't know why exactly my dear husband has decided to sport this hairy look.  Truly, though, as far as looks go, he can pull it off.  But that's as far as I can go.  I hate the feel of it. 

I have not hinted.  I have not worried about his feelings on the matter.  This has been one situation where I have not been subtle: I have told him outright, "I do not like the beard. Please shave it off."

Instead, he came home tonight with a beard trimmer. UGH.  He's serious.  He keeps telling me, "It'll get softer. I've read about it." I told him I don't care.  I don't like it.  I can't kiss him, not more than a peck.  It feels icky to me.  I could handle his occasional goatee, but not this.

So what's a girl to do?  Any suggestions.

2 Comments

  1. ginger ginger
    January 13, 2010    

    stop shaving…everything. see how he likes it. 🙂 it'll either work or you'll look like the grizzle adams family.

  2. Jenn Jenn
    January 14, 2010    

    hahaha, yesssss! Exactly what Ginger said!

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torch bearing quietly

I will not act out, will not
yell or curse or slam doors,
will not make a scene -- you
do not deserve such a chance
to make an example out of me
to be proven right since you
are not. Instead, I'll stand
at this street corner, raise
my hand high and clench that
light which yet remains. It
will burn brightly, quietly,
fiercely before fading as I.

Then I'll be gone but found.

©JAC 2005

Poetry by Julie Ann Cook!

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