Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Size Matters and the Return of Reality

"Baby," I tell the DNB in bed one night. "It's time."

"Okay," he replies reluctantly and turns onto his stomach.

"I'll be back in a minute. I need my equipment."

When I reappear, I position myself beside him and hunch down, squinting.

"Found one!" I say triumphantly.

The DNB is not generally a hairy beast, hobbit feet notably excluded. What he lacks in quantity, however, he makes up for in quality. So although he grows only three or four back hairs, they are easily the longest ones you've ever seen.

As a loving and supportive wife, it is my job to periodically remove these hairs.

"Geez," I say as I pull the first one. "Look at the length on that one." I hold it with my tweezers under the light.

"Let me see," the DNB cranes his neck to look. It's easily 2 inches long.

We marvel for a moment.

"I think it's fair to say," I tell the DNB, "that the honeymoon is over."

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