Slip slidin' away

When I first met Doug he had a perm. Now of course I didn’t realize that the night we met. All I knew was that he had curly hair. That next morning after our shower I watched with great interest as he stood there with a pick, arranging his curls for at least 10 minutes. I was fascinated. (By the time I met Doug I had surrendered to the will of my hair. It was just wash and go for me.)  So watching a guy fiddle with his hair I found really interesting. For me, it was like watching National Geographic.

Doug has always been fastidious about cleanliness, without being overly prissy. I really like that. When we first met though he was also more thorough in his general grooming. I didn’t even realize that he had hair in his nostrils. Over the years though his attention to the little things seems to have slipped away. I still love Doug and he looks better to me these days than he has in a long while. However, now he’s bearing an uncanny resemblance to a walrus. His  nose hair goes straight into his mustache. What’s with that? It’s creeping me out. And don’t even get me started on men’s ear hair. I have a real thing about it. He swears he doesn’t understand why it bothers me so.

The point is, if he had these things when we met, he made sure that I never knew about them; as it should be I think. At least a smidgen of mystery is a good thing. Do you remember when you first met your sweetie? Did either of you ever “break wind” in front of the other? Did you even have wind? I think God makes sure that no one has that problem for the first month into a new relationship. (If he didn’t people might not ever get together).

Fifteen years ago now, when I thought I was starting to bear an uncanny resemblance to Groucho Marx, I had it taken care of. I didn’t discuss it with Doug first. It was never an issue because I didn’t let it become one. Call me vain. If I had the extra cash right now I’d go and get the 8 hairs on my chin that taunt me banished . Alas, I do not. So instead I am vigilant, with a 10x mirror and tweezers never far away.

In fact in all this hub- bub of the move, the only thing that I’ve always known where it is is my little black bag that holds my anti- ZZ Top, anti Smith brothers gear. Why is it that a spot in my eyebrow where I’ve over plucked won’t come back, but my damn chin hairs act they’re on steroids? I really think if I got them long enough then braided them I just might be able to pull a car with them- you know like the guys who pull cars with their tallywhackers. The point is I never let Doug see them.

I just think this clip from Porky’s is hilarious. I know it’s juvenile; but you laughed, didn’t you?

Doug billed 84 hours last week, so for that reason, I’ll give him a pass on all this this right now. But I was just wondering, is your significant other slacking off on their general upkeep?  Or is it just him? No weight issues please. This is just a general grooming query.


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