Last week was the regatta de beard and I could not have been happier to see the finish line. Unfortunately on the first day Bryan torqued his back (so laden down with facial hair was he), and was forced to sit out the majority of the race. And by "sit out" I mean he laid on the couch at home and watched gladiator movies while making soft gristly downright maggot-y noises with his fingertips raking his beard. Sometime around Friday afternoon I reminded him that he was free to shave now that he was out of the race, but he said he wanted to support his team in spirit which means I got to spend my weekend with this man:
One bottom lip gained! It was kind of sexy in a Do Not Pick Up Hitchhikers kind of way. Except soon, the civility of this:
Turned to this:
A man possessed by bad grooming, one gladiator movie too many. Who's to say if it was the Porn 'Stache or High Hilarity Brought On by Bedrest, but Bryan really went with it:
At one point during the weekend as I was asking him to stand against the wall for yet another photo Bryan said, "I feel like you're making fun of me." Which kinda' broke my heart.
Because I'm not making fun of him. I mean, he's in on the joke, right? Plus, while I am not one for mustaches and never ever once got the whole mystique of Tom Selleck 5-0, I do think Bryan rocked the Ned Flanders walrus pushbroom, don't you?
I am so totally NOT making fun of him.