I’ve never really been into beards. (I take that back…Khal Drogo in GoT was sexy as hell with a beard). I’ve almost never really been into beards. But my almost-7-year-old son dared my husband to grow a beard in quarantine and let me tell you, it has not disappointed.
I’ve been with Matt for over 17 years. (I know, it’s a fucking long time)! He’s Irish-Italian so of course I’ve seen him with a daily shadow, but never with full on whiskers…until the last 10 weeks happened. I have to say, once it got past the itchy phase, it was easy to get used to; I even kind of like it. Who knows, maybe the quarantine beard is here to stay. (How does one even get rid of a full beard)?
What’s crazy is the amount of conversations that stem from it. He gets at least one beard compliment every Zoom meeting he has, which is a lot. He even gets advice from other bearded men and just ordered a beard grooming kit that comes in a nice little bamboo box and includes 100% organic beard oil, beard balm butter wax, a beard brush, beard comb, and scissors from Amazon. What in the actual fuck?! First, there’s a very real bearded cult out there. And second, I’m over here barely surviving—and trying not to grow a full-fledged mustache in the process—while Matt eagerly awaits his beard essentials.
What makes this even better is that as his barber, I’m entrusted with not only the locks on his head, but now, somehow, it’s my job to help him trim that thick and luscious beard. Matt swears he’ll never go back to (gulp) Super Cuts either; he loves the home haircuts.
So moral of the story: beards are growing rampant. And the three boys in my house (even Ralphie the cat got a haircut) are all well-groomed while I remain a disheveled, unkempt mess! Week 10 and counting!
Classy, Sassy & Smart-Assy 