You Are A Stranger

On Monday, my husband did what no person married to a faceblind person should ever do. He changed the way he looked. He shaved off almost his entire beard and mustache. (He didn’t completely shave them—he would’ve given me fair warning about that. He’s done that before, and I’d almost completely freaked because I thought he was a stranger who’d broken into my house. Thankfully, I’m very good at voice/body recognition and I don’t own a handgun.)

However, Cal did shave his beard and mustache enough that there was only a vague shadow of them. Then, he had the gall to find me and say, “I don’t I look ten years younger?”

I said, “Honestly? You want my honest thoughts?”

Cal: “Well, yeah.”

Me: “You don’t look any younger, you look strange. The proportions of your face look completely weird to me. As if your nose grew longer and curled over. Your upper lip elongated. And your cheeks swelled.”

Cal: “Oh.”

Me: “Sorry.”

Cal: “I’ll go ask the kids.”