Kate has never supported the idea of me having facial hair, even when all my male relatives had it. I think she’s opposed to me having a scratchy face. I guess it’s hard to argue with that.

As a result, I decided to grow some facial hair while Kate was away. Here’s how my beard looked earlier today:

Before Kate left, I told her that I’d have a beard when she came back. (I don’t think she really believed me.) I hatched a funny plot: I would show up at the airport in a fake beard, and then when I pulled it away, there would be a real beard! Ha ha! What great sport!

Unfortunately, I failed to realize one thing: Facial hair doesn’t feel good to grow. It gets itchy. Nothing made me more aware of that than Louis running frantically around the cage because of his itchy mite infestation. (He goes back to the vet on Friday for his second shot.) It was painful to watch, but even worse because I too felt an incurable, though less severe, itch.

So, now I don’t have any beard at all. The joke, while mildly funny, wasn’t enough to make it worthwhile. Neither was the opportunity to look like an adult, or at least a real Unix guy.

P.S. Have you seen They’re very pro-beard. They say the itching would go away, and they may be right, but it will take more incentive than a single joke to make me wait it out.