I'm going absolutely insane. I can't stop scratching my neck, just to the right of my Adam's apple (my right), because it itches so damn bad. It's now been a week since my last shave and I'm beginning to appear downright dreadful on the way towards my Christmas beard.
McQ (my 14-year-old daughter) responded in sheer horror when she discovered my plan last week. To no surprise, with a potential beard I managed to find a way to be an even bigger embarrassment to her. For this, I take immense - albeit a bit guilty - pride.
Baby Fischer is approaching eleven months now and he's ripe for his first Christmas. I figured the beard would offer an auspicious sort of Chris Kringle flare to his first yuletide.
It looks as though I'll just end up resembling the redheaded bearded guy from that early 90's show, ThirtySomething.
Ugh.
Come to think of it, a formidable Charles Manson looking beard might come in handy. After all, McQ will be dating sooner than later. The look might come in handy.
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2 comments:
If you're trying to scare off guys you should try answering the door, growling a little, and saying something like, "What the hell do you want?" That's how my dad rolled when I was in high school.
sage advice that I'll keep at the ready in my hip pocket
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