When it comes to shaving, I hate doing it and I hate not doing it.
Since Christmas, I had a beard (I stopped shaving the day before Christmas Eve), the fourth beard I’ve grown over the past few winters. While it’s not as impressive as the beard Harrison Ford sported in The Fugitive, my beard was quite formidable, a mix of blonde and red.
While it was quite useful over the past few months, I just got sick of it. So I’m clean shaven again. I feel comfortable with how I look either way, but now I’m actually wondering how Hope would react. She has quite a memory (the other day she mentioned drilling pumpkins at school for Halloween, something that hasn’t come up in at least six months), so she surely remembers me without a beard. At the same time, she says she likes it. And I have hinted that it may be going away to no response from her.
As for the other woman in my life, I’m not too worried about how The Civee will react. I’ve been sitting in the same room with her for at least 20 minutes (with her looking right at me four times so far (make that five)) without her saying anything. This is actually normal, as it always takes her some time (and some hinting) to realize the beard is gone.
So I’ll go back to shaving every few days, even considering how much I hate doing so. I just hope when she wakes up tomorrow my daughter knows who I am.
Published by