When my Dad shaved off his mustache I cried for a week.I was around seven.
I remember he had just walked through the door, and i caught a glimpse of his naked upper lip,
through the corner of my horrified eye
and i screamed.
I screamed as if i had just witnessed a bear violently tearing the face off of my little pet dog.
I screamed as if I had just found said pet dog's ripped up corpse under my pillow.
I screamed. i ran. i hid. and then i cried. i cried inconsolably until i started choking on my own snot.
i grieved his missing face hair. i mourned its loss. i ached. i bellowed. i roared.
i somberly vowed life would never be the same with a mustache-less dad.
life as i knew it would end.... until he grew it back.
he never grew his mustache back.
i still secretly wish he would.
im not very good with change.
infact, i suck at it.
i wish i could still hide away under the blankets. i wish i could still scream and then cry until i choke on my own snot, whenever change happens.
i wish the loss of fatherly mustaches were the only things i'd ever have to mourn.
but their not.
and that's hard to accept.
I love the post, the imagery at the beggining made me howl with laughter, probably not what you were going for, but I have a sick sense of homour. I blame my mother, so feel free to do the same.
ReplyDeletethat picture so was my dad in 1987. how did you know!?!? :P
ReplyDeletei concur with you. i hate it when people save facial hair. and that change can be tough.
Yup, change sucks.
ReplyDeleteAstrid (who usually has a very hard time with change and will tell you so herself) actually was very happy when one person we know (it was Gary Johnson) shaved his mustache. She was about 3 at the time. When she saw Gary she said "I am glad Gary shaved his mustache. Before, whenever he walked in the room with that mustache of his, I just stared and stared at it in amazement."