Spring

I loathe winter. If I ruled the world, Winter would exist solely from Thanksgiving to Christmas and would magically disppear on December 26th. In fact, on my list of things to ask Jesus (along why can't I fly and why gnats exist) is WHY IN THE HECK he invented winter. It ultimately serves no purpose at all....at least in my life. Unless, of course, it is to make me a bitter, cold woman. Curse you winter!

Lucky for me, the hairy rat, or groundhog, or whatever didn't see his shadow and spring is upon us. He needs a big fat sloppy kiss from this gal.

All that to say, the mercury's a risin' and so are my spirits. It's SPRING(insert choirs of hallelujahs here)! Well, three days of spring-like weather, but who cares. I'm in denial. It has to be spring. I will wear flip flops and long flowy dresses. and tank tops. I will ride with the windows down. I actually have to....my air conditioning is broken. But that's beside the point. I love being outside. I love sunshine. I love warmth. I love Florida. I will celebrate spring and you won't stop me. So there.

And then there are the people who do weird things when spring rolls around. Exhibit #1: the people in my neighborhood who are swimming in the pool. Lets be real. I love the pool as much as the next gal. But you people are weird. There are nights when it is still 40 degrees at times. Just because you've packed away the scarves and pulled out your flip flops doesn't mean you lose the ability to feel the frigid waters in our pool. But whatevs. It's okay. But I will stare with my head cocked to the side as if to say, WHAT are you thinking? And I certainly won't be joining you until the water's slightly more inviting.

Exhibit #2: My husband. Love that man, but something has gotten into him this spring. I've been broadening his culinary experiences slightly, and I wonder if some strange shift in his electrolytes and this change in weather have collided and created an explosion of craaaaaazy, but the man somehow got it into his head that a mustache is a good idea. 1980 called, right? I walked into the bedroom to go to bed the other night and I thought I was hallucinating. My husband, God bless him, had shaved his previously full grown beard into a Fu Manchu mustache. But don't worry, he added a little soul patch just for effect. Um. It. Looked. Reeee-diculous. And as I contemplated whether or not I could share a bed with such an atrocious facial adornment, I quickly realized that he intended to keep it....for more than just the night. As in, he intended to go out in public. Not only did he go out in public for TWO DAYS looking like this, he took our kids to school and taught kids like yours and mine at his own school! And shame our name that way? Yes, yes he did. Here, he is, loud and proud:

Now, let's take a step back in history and see how the Fu Manchu has fared atop some more well known faces:
Disaster #1: the Phelps facial hair flop

Disaster #2: Travolta's Terrible Trim
Disaster #3: Don't even have words to describe it. But I will point out to you, and my husband, that this entire getup was supposed to represent ridiculousness. Hence the facial hair
Disaster #4: Just say no.So, when Shane stepped into the bathroom two nights later with clippers and a razor, I was sure I'd seen the end of his psychotic break. I carefully got the kids' bags ready for school and headed to the bedroom. As I settled into bed and looked over, my heart stopped. This is what I saw (sans the sunglasses).


As if facial hair couldn't get more absurd, there was Shane, with a silly little grin on his face, proudly sporting the Burt Reynolds 'stache. I died. Oh. My. Goodness. I can't take it people. Someone help me. Should I bust out my crimper and side ponytail until he concedes? T-shirt ties and acid washed jeans? I need help!

So now, Shane needs a razor and I need a stiff drink. And maybe a warmer pool.