Tie a yellow ribbon ‘round the old oak tree!
Happy days are here again.
When I got home last night, I got a HUGE surprise! Brett finally shaved off that dreadful Fu Manchu. He met me at the door with his sweet, clean-shaven face and said, “A new look for new opportunities."
I was floored in an absolutely happy way. I abhor facial hair, even though Brett’s had it for most of our life together. My rule is that he can grow a mustache, goatee, beard, Fu Manchu, whatever…as long as he knows it means I will NOT kiss him. If he has facial hair, he gets cheek kisses or quick pecks, only.
I’m not a germ-a-phobe, but here are my own personal feelings on the matter.
Kissing someone with facial hair is equivalent to kissing a squirming den of caterpillars. It’s bad for your skin (the kissee). You have NO idea what microscopic food or germ particles might be trapped in the hair, and the fact that it’s directly under someone’s nose and mouth…well, that’s just gross.
So last night, we made out like a couple of teenagers!
Best line of the night was from Brett, “Remind me again why I ever grow a beard?”