death of a salesman. i mean, manly beard.

todd decided to do 'no-shave november' last fall.  he carried it into december, but then shaved a few days after christmas so we could have some civilized family photos taken.  until this weekend, he had not shaved since then, so it's been about seven months of an increasingly self-actualizing beard.

i haven't hated it, although i prefer to be able to see more of his face, so i've been ready for the death of the beard for awhile.  i don't think the entirety of men-kind shares my sentiments, though.  men have been weirdly into todd's beard.  even strangers come up to him to compliment him on it.  one guy stopped him in a restaurant in south dakota to emphasize just how 'really beautiful' he found todd's beard.  men act weirdly feminine around it - they emphatically compliment him on the way he looks, and seem to want to brush his (facial) hair while telling him all their deepest, darkest secrets.  this beard melts adult men into preteen girls, if preteen girls had any interest in beards.

so the death of the beard has been a dreaded day for todd, who has not hated being told he's beautiful by random strangers on a near-daily basis.  but it was time.  so on saturday, he said his final farewells.

not before this happened, though:

ahh, this conveys the true heart of the moment a little better:

here, he seems to be lion-kinging his ball of beard hair:

the kids seemed to be on todd's side regarding the loss.  laurelai was not a fan of todd's new old face:

finneas has spent the last two days sitting on todd's lap, rubbing his chin, and saying 'your beard is gone, dad!'  not sure how he feels about it, one way or the other.

and penelope BEGGED AND BEGGED to keep all the beard hair.  i told her absolutely not, it was getting dumped into the compost bin immediately.  she begged some more, and todd fought for her.  i said, no way joses.  she begged again, and todd backed her up again, so i caved and compromised:  she now gets to carry around a jar full of beard hair until next saturday, when it will get dumped.  since this photo was taken, the jar has mysteriously developed a taped-on face, and a name tag that reads "todd" in very scratchy kindergarten handwriting.  Beard-jar Todd goes with her everywhere.  except to church.  i have to draw the line somewhere.

bye bye beardy, yet again.  i'm sure we'll see you again come november, although maybe not as much of you this time?  i guess we'll have to wait and find out.


todd said...

i will miss the admiration of random men, but not the accompanying requests for me to sign my tigerbeat centerfold

Amanda Cushman said...

Seriously dying laughing over this!