The Beard

My brother-in-law has a beard and when I say beard I mean it’s so big he sometimes gets things caught in it.

I love his beard.  I think it’s amazing that guys can grow hair on their face.

They can grow hair…


Pretty cool.

I’m not saying I ever want that skill but…pretty cool.

Steve gets comments everywhere he goes. When we went to church during their visit a couple of people asked him about his beard.

“How long have you had it?”

“Oh, about three years.”

“That’s awesome.”


It was like talking about his child.

Clare and Uncie Steve

I feel like having a friend with a long beard is like having a friend with big boobs or mole on their face.  You love them and you’re used to their unique appearance but…you are always going to stare at their feature and ask them awkward questions about it…or maybe that’s just me. The entire weekend Steve and Erin were here I wanted to braid Steve’s beard. It took everything bit of willpower not to reach over, split it into three big pieces and weave it down to the very tip.

Evidently when I was Clare’s age I hated men with beards. I would scream and scream like a cat in water until they left and then I was fine.

Before Steve and Erin arrived my mom said, “Now Clare might be afraid of Steven’s beard.”

“Really? Do you think so?”

“Well…some kids are afraid of beards.”

I couldn't resist.

Clare was not at all afraid of his beard in fact I think she liked playing with it.  She loved Steve (you too Erin) and would coo and talk to him every time his hairy face would approach her.

I can’t wait until she is older and can run up to “Uncie Steve” and grab two fistfuls and squeal with joy.

So in honor of Steve Vaché I would like to declare this beard appreciation day.  If you have a man with nice hairy Christmas wreath on his face give him a hug, shake his hand and say, “Yes. I love you AND your beard.”

In other parts of my world: Andrew just saved his beard…Goodbye beard. Hello face. He looks so young. Andrew I love you AND your non beard.


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