Many of you know that Michael made me a promise of sorts back in the beginning of March. Since coming back from Thailand, Michael had grown out a fairly solid beard that he kept trim to his face. Upon returning from Thailand to the East Coast’s dead-of-winter, he insisted that the beard helped keep him warm.
In March, I was approached about interviewing for two jobs at the same organization, and I was the only candidate interviewed. So, suffice to say, it looked promising that I would get a job.
So, as the temperature warmed and a job seemed imminent, Michael made a declaration:
“I will not shave my beard until you get a job.”
Harmless enough. But, for reasons I best not get into in a public forum, the aforementioned job opportunities unexpectedly disappeared, and Michael was left with a beard. And, through several dozen cover letters, resumes, and interviews, he continued to grow his beard. It slowly morphed from a trim beard to a shaggy hipster get-up that actually fit in quite well in downtown Philly. Over three months later, not one hair on his chinny-chin-chin has been trimmed.
(“You crazy kids will do anything for a video montage,” my best friend, Brittany, said in the middle of all this.)
My feelings on my husband’s loyalty and commitment come and go. Most of the time, even as people tease him, I am moved by his utter commitment to something he said he would do–as silly as it was–and proud of his gesture of “solidarity,” as he calls it. Other times, I look at my husband and just see my own failure all over his face.
On the drive to Grand Rapids a few weeks ago, we decided he was going to shave the beard when we arrived. After all, it had been our trip out here back in March that had inspired his decision. But, only a few miles down the road, Mike declared that he had come too far to merely shave it off for “a new start.” We compromised and decided that a new apartment was just as exciting as a new job.
A few days ago, we were at the Befus’ house during a playdate. A neighbor’s little girl came into the kitchen where Mike was standing, alone. She ran in and looked at Mike, stopping dead in her tracks.
“Hey,” Mike said. She stared at him, frozen.
Then, after a long pause, she slowly backed out of the room. Inexplicably, it was she who mumbled, “Sorry I scared you.”
Today we signed the lease and put a security deposit on our new home. It’s in our old neighborhood, and we’re really excited about it. Which means (drumroll, please) that it is time to shave the beard.
And, yes, Brittany. There will be a video to come.
Our new home, the bearded fellow, and a lease
Posted by: collettostories
Category: photos, Uncategorized
Tags: apartment, beard, Grand Rapids, job hunt, marriage, Michael, Michael's beard, solidarity, vows
That beard is insane.
5:04 am June 14, 2011