Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Baby on Board

My father used to do something when I drove with him. Whenever we stopped hard, he put his hand in front of me, even when I was past being a teenager. That instinct hit me in full force today as we were all in the car tooling around Burbank. This is California, dude, and there are some bad drivers here (though not the sort of bad drivers that are in smaller towns, it's a different sort of bad). Anyway, the hand flung out in front of my wife when shit got stupid.
We're okay, but I get it now.

Part Two of "A Clean Thicket" The wife likes it. I figured I've got about a month of her upkeep, then maybe two months of me doing it myself. Then her prodding me to go back. But since it was her idea, if I'm obstinant I'm an asshole, and if I'm too compliant, I'm whipped. Strange how such decisions are decided by ego. So far, I could care less. I'd probably grow a beard if she liked it or I thought it would look like I was trying to force a chin that I aldready have (most guys with goatees look like they're trying to be taken seriously, or are fat or awkward and trying to hide their soft spot). But even then, beards require upkeep, so the shave every other day is just as easy, if not more so. My wife said something today about how you marry not because you want to fuck the other person but because you know it'll be okay when you don't. I don't know what that has to do with other, but I think it meshes in a way.