I’ve just bought the new filler pages for my day-timer, so it must be time to make a resolution. And here it is:
I’d like to grow a beard.
Not because I want to, or even because it will make me look more manly (though the wife might think so). I must do it because it will make me look more fatherly.
All of the expectant fathers in all of the birthing books and on all of the TV shows are bare-chested, hairy men. They attend to their wife’s every need, kneading and stroking and arranging and feeding all the live long day. Typically dressed only in a tiny pair of shorts, they jump in the tub or shower with the laboring mother with abandon. They squat, lean, lie, or push as necessary. They smile, and grunt, and sweat, and hold. And when the new baby is born, they shed a few tears before changing into dry shorts for the family photos.
Now, I’m not averse to shirtlessness. I mean, it is one of the main reasons I enjoy running in the summer. But with my minimal back and shoulder hair, I think I’ll need to compensate with some facial hair. Hope it does the trick.