Today I shaved off my beard. It had 'decorated' my face for about a month. 4 weeks of looking in the mirror to see if it had grown any since I'd last checked (about thirty seconds before) and kinda half-closing my eyes in an effort to see what it would look like when it filled out a bit. It itched a bit, collected crumbs, and probably looked more Dick than Van Dyke. The final kicker was when I asked Jill if she liked it. She said no, so my little experiment as an alpha-male was scuppered by the Wee Wifie. Heather, our four year old daughter was thoroughly annoyed as she loved the rugged look adopted by Daddy and chastised Mummy, telling her "No more housework for a whole week!"
Jill took Heather into a public toilet yesterday. The sinks were full of vomit. This is probably the downside of equality or something, I don't know. My little girl looked at said sink bowls and quipped "Well, I wouldn't want to wash my underwear in that!"
No, I don't quite undertand it either.
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