Life can be hairy; you don't have to be

When I write my book, my superhero will be tall, dark and handsome. He'll be strong enough to cry when it's appropriate; smart enough to know when that is (and isn't); and he'll be willing to wield tweezers and attack the chin hairs that escape my scrutiny.

Yes, I said it. I have unwanted chin hairs, and if you're honest, ladies, you do too. You may have other unwanted, albeit natural, growth in other areas as well, but that's your business. Because I love you dearly, I wish for you a mate like mine: in my case a man who for all his flaws, will alert you to, perhaps even help battle the kudzu-like growth that will eventually set in if it hasn't already.

For those of you with more testosterone than estrogen, I appeal to you to heed the call you may first have heard when Edwina met her love, H.I. McDunnough: "Turn to the left!"

That's right: check out the ear hair, man. And rely on your partner, who if he/she loves you enough, will address the situation for you. And if you have Joe Kernan eyebrows, don't fear trimmer; embrace it.

Here's what else I wish for you.

I wish for you a mate who will:
1. Squirrel away notes and momentos from your life together -- even it if means you have unwanted clutter taking up space in your basement.
2. Not just make love to you when you're not at your best physically, but actually WANT to make love to you because you're you.
3. Make you so angry you could do bodily harm every once in a while.
4. Have a past. A past that involves other lovers and adventures you have never undertaken so there's a comparative.
5. Have a past that can't compare to your present and future because you've both learned what really matters.

I could go on, but it'll just devolve into maudlin crap. Please, I beg of you, don't discount the tweezers. They're going to be important in your life. There may come a time when you're trapped in a hospital bed unable to take care of those little buggers yourself.

Sure, Ward was happy to clasp June's pearls. And it's handy to have help with troublesome jewelry, zippers and the like. The real test of love and endurance is the facial hair.

Why am I waxing hirsute-ical? Because this weekend, Jeff and I went through a bunch of old stuff to contribute to an e-cycle effort. We had old electronics but they were taking paper, too. A torrent of memories -- some great, some awful, some sweet, some kick-ass funny -- came pouring out. Love letter, advice to the love lorn, old cards and notes.

I found a box of clip files and speeches I'd written for politicians long out of office. Jeff found legal papers that sprung him free to meet and steal me away from a former love, the congratulations note he found in his locker when he tried out for the high school basketball team and an encouraging note from his coach the next year.

Most of it was fun and we kept more than we should. I'll apologize to Alison now for the detritus she'll have to deal with one day. But for today, I'm happy for that look back and my peek (fully supported by the man) into my husband's life.

Life can be hairy in more ways than one. Lucky for us both, we're stronger than the follicles. Here's hoping we all are.