I think he just likes to be close to me — especially when I’m naked — so it comes as no surprise when, as I’m lotioning after my late-morning shower, he crowds into my tiny bathroom to talk to me.
He inspects his shaggy ‘do as he speaks, stroking the scruff of his beard and looking at his reflection with quizzical fascination. He’s sporting “the full corona” (as I’ve come to call it) and has not had a hair cut – due to lockdown restrictions – since January. So in addition to the hair in his beard — which is growing out in a patchy pattern of gray an white — he is growing out the hair on his head to lengths he hasn’t seen since his late teens.
He looks a bit like a cross between Merle Haggard and The Absentminded Professor.
I don’t mind, particularly, though I don’t love the beard (because, scratchy!), but he’s been dealing with some of the realities of Being An Older Person lately and some of it hits a bit hard. The fact that his beard and scraggly hairdo age his face considerably don’t seem to occur to him when he complains about being treated (by young people) “like an old man.”
When I tell him he could shave his beard and eliminate the problem, he looks at me blank-facedly.
“It does make you look old… er,” I say.
He takes a closer look in the mirror and strokes his hand down the bristly growth.
“Well, I am old… er,” he replies.
I roll my eyes at him.
You don’t want kids to treat you like you’re old but you intentionally grow out your scruff and shag, which makes you look older than you are… Which in turn encourages (young) people to think you’re older than you are (i.e., OLD) and therefore treat you like you’re old. Where’s the logic in that?
I don’t say this aloud; there’s no point, really. He’s stuck in a stubborn reliving-his-longhaired-youth-but-looking-like-an-old-ass-hippie loop of illogic.
Instead, I remind him that I, too, am growing older. (I found a gray pubic hair recently — that was a trip. “Let me see,” he’d said, getting down on his knees to search for the silvery streak. “Why?” I asked. “Do you want to floss your teeth with it?”)
He crosses his arms. Nods.
“You gotta embrace your oldness, hon,” he says.
: blink :
Really…? I’m not the one having difficulty with it!
He wiggles past me at this proclamation, out of the cramped shared bathroom space and into my bedroom.
Embrace my oldness, indeed.
Before he gets to the hallway door, I say, “Wait!”
When he turns back toward me, I walk up (still naked, mind you) and put my arms around him.
“Oooh… This is nice…” he says, obviously befuddled by the unexpected skin-contact hug.
Clearly he doesn’t get it.
Yet.
So, giving him a little squeeze, I bury my lips against his shoulder so he can’t see the laugh that’s threatening, and explain:
.
“Well, you told me I needed to embrace my oldness. So I figured I’d put my arms around YOU.”
🙂 What a way to go ! 🙂
Okay, this made me chuckle. Bless his heart. He seems like the sweetest guy every time you talk about him. Your relationship is so sweet.
I’m not “old” yet, but I can tell I’m no longer on my 20s. My body makes noises and hurts far more than it did when I was in my 20s. Especially my knees. Speaking of gray pubes, I’ve discovered a number of them over the last year. None on my head though…
Cara Thereon recently posted…Cheeky
He’s a gentle soul with a good sense of humor. We enjoy each other. 🙂
I have plenty of gray in the hairs on my head, but my hair is sort of a gold-brown so the gray-silver just blends. The gray I found in my pubes, on the other hand… Nope. No chance of THAT blending in! 😛
Well, at least being married to you he will not lack for entertainment as he grows old… er. Fun story!
Reminds me of a post coital chat with a LOP about 12 years ago, playing guess each others age. I said, “Would you belive 48?” To which she replied “I would have put you at early 50s”.
I replied “No, I mean 1948”. She looked shocked and started counting on her fingers to see how much old than her I was.
They do know how to flatter a guy.
Ah youth is so wasted on the young.
Sir Thomas recently posted…Numberphiles, stand up and be counted
Mr Fever is 60 — born in, and age of. Normally he looks like he’s in his early 50s because the hair on his head hardly has any gray. But with the full corona his face is aged at least ten years.
This is such a sweet story!
This made me laugh. Those moments are just so sweet 🙂
~ Marie
So Mr. Fever robbed the cradle eh?? By the way clean shaven pussies have no gray hairs…
Collaredmichael recently posted…Edging (Part 1)—Is That a Cliff I’m Approaching?
My gray hairs don’t bother me. I have zero intention of shaving any of them off.
Oh I feel this lovely story, and the lovely way you have told it x
This is one of those brilliant moments worth capturing and I enjoyed being able to read it. Age is difficult sometimes but I know what you mean about us not always helping ourselves. I love your cheeky humour at the end 😊
I love how you notice, keep and retell these everyday moments. This is what makes our relationships.
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