the beard

I have a funny husband. He is probably one of the funniest people that I have ever known. Like the kind of funny that could have it’s own sitcom or stand-up routine. And if you know Adam personally I think you would agree. Adam had this beard (as pictured above); I hated that beard. I would never want a smooch from my hubby because the facial hair would scratch the top layer of skin off my sensitive face with just one little peck. But no matter what I said or how much I pleaded, he would not shave his beard. The beard grew and grew and my distaste for the red-colored face hair grew right along with it. Adam said he would shave it and and I half believed him; he even went to the storage unit and picked up his hair buzzer, but it just stayed in the trunk of the car. Many a time I would point out left over food or beer foam dangling from his unruly facial hair. This would never convince him to shave. It didn’t help that everyone he ran into would compliment the beard, or was jealous of the mighty beast, or that, for the first time, people didn’t wonder where our son’s red hair came from. They would point at Adam’s red beard and nod.

Then the day came when the bread went away. We were in Southern California, visiting family and attending our nephew’s memorial. It was a beautiful, warm and sunny day–almost 80 degrees. We were in between functions and needed to pass some time. I was thirsty. Adam’s sis, Ingrid was thirsty, too, so we stopped at Starbucks. Adam stayed in the car with Ollie and Ingrid and I went into buy the drinks. When we returned to the car I handed Adam his coffee; however, he was unable to grab hold of his drink because in his hand were hair clippers and in his lap was a Target bag full of hair. The beard that I had come to know and hate was gone. However the mustache was in it’s place. Ingrid and I busted into laughter, tears streaming down our cheeks. Through my laughter I asked my husband why he decided to shave off his beard. The only answer he gave was that he was hot.

The mustache turned a couple of heads when we rejoined the family. It was a much needed laugh during the somber affair and I learned an invaluable lesson that day. Don’t wish for a beard to be gone because you might get a mustache in it’s place…or you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone…or the beard is always greener on the other side.


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