Well, Halloween has come and gone and four seconds after the last trick-or-treater left the streets, Kmart started their Christmas commercials. There’s been a Christmas display in the Dollar General for a month now, I’ve just refused to pay any attention to it. Now I have no choice.
There’s a lot going on this time of year. Freight gets crazy good about the time you want to park it in the driveway and take a few holidays off, and people on the highways drive worse than usual (if that’s even possible). It’s not unheard of to be mowed down on 675 by a 90-year-old granny on her way to an ornament sale at Elder-Beerman.
One of the best things about November is the beards. The true origin of Novembeard is controversial but is believed to have its roots in the late ’90s, demonstrating support for men’s health issues such as prostate cancer. I know Novembeard has been celebrated by the men in my family for as long as I can remember. My Dad and his brothers all usually kept a beard, but they let them get extraordinary during November, using the excuse that they needed them to keep warm while deer hunting. Even Grandad, who was usually clean-shaven, participated in Novembeard. Those guys had some of the best beards ever, way before the Duck Dynasty craze.
George has always had a goatee — his has actually gotten a little epic since he’s been driving. I like the long beard. I’m a fan of facial hair, but not everyone is. His mom begs him to cut it off all the time. Much to her displeasure, he’s decided to let the cheeks fill in and go for the full-on Grizzly Adams look. The hair on his head is auburn, but the hair in his beard is bright orange. When he grows it out, he really does look like Red Beard.
“What are you going to do with that thing when you’re done growing it out?”
“I don’t know, I was thinking of tying little red bows in it.”
“Really guy? Why don’t you put gold rings in it like Robin and Georgie have been begging you to do? Be all Viking-y and stuff.”
“Nah. I’ll probably cut it off and donate it to Locks of Love.”
“That’s totally the grossest thing I’ve ever heard. I just threw up a little.”
“What? What’s wrong with that? My beard would make an awesome wig.”
“That’s so mean. Make a little kid with cancer wear your beard for a wig. Like having cancer isn’t bad enough.”
“Seriously?! I thought you liked my beard!”
“I love your beard, but I don’t want to wear it as a wig.”
This is where our 16-year-old son (who wants to use the car) steps into the room.
“I’d proudly wear your beard as a wig, Dad.”
And now we officially have had the weirdest family conversation ever on record. Yay for Novembeard.