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Growing a beard, confusion reigns

The post title sums it up nicely - I'm growing a beard and starting to gain completely the wrong reaction for it..

So not this then.


Why am I growing a beard? No reason really outside of going for the grizzled barbarian look which is so hot this year (more barbarian looking than grizzled currently but the backyard workouts are getting there slowly.)
I was awesome inspired by my brothers own previous chin forest which gained its own sentience.

But so far there's been zero invitations to join battle, ride a long boat (get your mind out of the gutter) or join in a festive night of mead and meat on sticks. What I've gained instead are two moments that have brought my wife Donna no end of amusement, because she hates the thing intently.

'When are you going to shave that thing off then?' 

- Donna, whenever she sees it. 


(My answer: Possibly when I turn 40, which is a while away so the grizzled hairy raider look is staying for a little time longer)

Artist rendition on how I look walking into work.


She's also the reason for these two moments so maybe it payback.

Moment one: Spotlight

Why I was there: Foolishly I had agreed to give up raiding coastal villages that afternoon for trunks full of gold to swing by Spotlight to buy her some eyes for her latest craft bear. Long story short, she makes bears. Even shorter story short, Spotlight is never I place I would venture into on a whim, lest I get murdered by vengeful crafters and stabbed with a knitting needle.
(I have my own craft store, it's called Bunnings)

But there I was with my 4 year old daughter Sophie in tow, looking for bear eyes while holding a banana skin (Sophie brought a snack you see). And when I finally located the right size eye without an air bubble in the casting and took it to the counter, the friendly twenty something looked at it and then me and exclaimed:

'Oh do you make teddy bears?'

Does this look like the barbarian horde face of someone who makes Teddy Bears???

I have come to take all your riches and drink all your terrible coffee. 

Moment two: The Chemist

Why I was there: The message hit my phone just as I was finishing up work. 'Can you grab some Naprogesic?'
So as a caring husband does, I walked into the chemist to ask about Naprogesic or some kind of alternative period pain relief. The pharmacist asked if I'd like to buy the cheaper generic brand and then asked:

'Are these for you?'

Apologies to any ladies who have been confused for me as this is the first time I've ever been confused for a woman.

I don't make teddy bears and I'd make one ugly looking lady for sure, especially with this hairy jaw line.

Perhaps I should grow it out down to my belt line or even better, down to my knees before venturing out again?

See you in six months then!

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