Daddy's New Face

Last weekend I shaved off my beard.

Things were slow at our house, so I thought I’d shake things up a bit. Change is good, as long as you clean up after yourself when you’re finished.

Actually, it was nothing earth shattering. I grow a beard every fall – usually around Thanksgiving – and I shave it off each spring, more or less around Easter.

This year the reactions varied. My wife shrugged and said what she always says: “it’s your face, do what you like”. Then she pointed out that my clean face highlighted my urgent need for a haircut.

She prefers the beard. When we got married she even went so far as to say she’d turn around and leave if she started up the aisle and saw me without it. I believed her.
Besides, the wedding was in New Brunswick in November, and I was freezing. It was win-win.

She claims she just likes how I look with a neatly trimmed beard. I suspect that deep down she thinks that the unshaven version of me is homely. She denies this of course, but then she snickers in a way that is just short of mean.

Being only 1, Evelyn’s reaction was interesting. She initially looked at me like I was a home invader. Then the look changed, and she realized I was a home invader who was wearing her father’s glasses. Then she clued in, and laughed at me before returning to her job knocking down the stackable blocks. It was a hearty toddler giggle, just the way she giggles when I play peek-a-boo with a (clean) diaper.

Bridget should have noticed, since she hates it if I try to kiss her when I have a beard. She screams and runs for cover. But, she didn’t notice at all. She was intently working on a drawing she called “Dinosaur” which bore a striking resemblance to her earlier works “Airplane in the Sky” and “Grandma Gave Me Ice Cream For Breakfast”.

When it was pointed out to her that my face was smooth and clean she smiled and said “Oh. OK Daddy. Now you can come and give me a kiss.”

Which I did.