I wonder how many other men out there are familiar with, or adhere to, the concept of Winter Beard. Winter beard may have dozens upon dozens of other names or euphamisms that I’m not aware of, but in it’s most basic form is a beard that comes along with the onset of winter, keeping it’s grower warm and toasty on cold days, providing heightened senses of strength and might, and generally enabling the winter bearded to scoff at those whose wilting manliness doth not allow for facial hair.  Winter beard is not to be confused with the female equivalent, Winter Bush (Will…not…post…link…)

Any how, Winter Beard is generally off putting to the ladies. It’s scruffy, and unkempt, and it causes chapped lips, and it reminds the ladies of one more thing that is physically impossible for most of them. Kind of like peeing your name in the snow. In fact, that’s how most Winter Beards are eliminated, at the bequest of a significant other. Here’s the thing, though, The Wife loves the Winter Beard. Loves it. Likes to scratch it, and touch it, and groom it, like we’re a pair of silver backs in the Congo.

I’ve tried to come up with a reasoning for this behavior.  I think it’s due to the fact that during the key stage of Winter Beard, the molting stage, The Wife was out of town on business. The molting stage is generally the stage when girlfriends, wives, mothers, et al. grow tired of winter beard; it is at it’s most scraggly and unkempt, before it blossoms into the soft, downy bed of straw that we all know and love. She missed this stage, and once she returned, the manstache was feathery soft, drawing her in like a sale at Macy’s.

So now I’m faced with a new, uncharted dilemma; trying to find an exit strategy for Winter Beard. I’m wondering if there might be some specific calendar date, or tempature threshold at which the grisly attache is no longer allowed. Any insight from the masses is much appreciated.