What would Mr Darcy do?

I get bored with my hair every six months or so. That’s why I’ve had three beards in the last two years. I’ve been growing my hair out a bit recently, letting it hang around my head like a hobbit or an amphetamines-era Major Leaguer.

I thought the perfect thing to coordinate with my growing halo of hair would be a set of mutton chops. “Like Sweeney Todd!” I thought. “Or Wolverine,” said Trevor. So I shaved the middle third of my face this morning. It looks good. I look like a bass player.

The kids had other impressions. Lily was excited at first to watch me shave, her cheerfulness giving over to mistrust and then finally, “You missed a spot on your cheeks!” in a tone normally reserved for the announcement of runaway trucks. When I came downstairs Noah greeted me with no small alarm, “Why did you grow sidebangs?” Both agreed, “You don’t look like our faaaaather!”

This last was delivered before they quarantined themselves in the bathroom with Corrie, who had not yet taken in the rock-n-roll innovations. She must have felt bad about the kids’ reaction though because she didn’t mention the “sidebangs” before I left for work. Corrie is tolerant of a lot of nonsense from me and the children. However, her patience runs short when it comes to experimental facial hair.