All these years Bradley thought he couldn’t grow a beard.  All these years he said it was thin, it was holey, and he lamented his inability to really grow a good beard.  I was secretly (okay, not so secretly) happy that a beard seemed out of his realm as I had no desires to kiss a bearded husband.  But one weekend Bradley let it grow, and as it grow we looked at him carefully.  Hmm…  could he grow a beard?  There was only on way to find out.  Of course, he let it come in.  And come in it did!  It was thick and curly, red, blonde and just the wee bit of silver flashing here and there.  The holes and blank spots quickly camouflaged themselves and suddenly there it was: a beard.  On my babe.  Bradley looked amazing.  I mean, if I can be so frank, I think my husband is pretty beautiful.  I know I am supposed to think that, so I wonder often if I have my wife blinders on or something, but I think he is a babe.  With the beard he went from babe to uber-babe.  He was babalicious, bab-a-riffic and all of those other things I could say that would make him blush under his beard (that said, I love the baby faced version of the hubs a whole heckuva lot too).  Gigi loved it, I was rapidly won over, then the heat hit and he got itchy and sweaty.  Bradley made the decision to cut the beard and try it again in colder weather.  Naturally, we couldn’t allow such an opportunity to pass us by, so we present to you The Galleria of Weirdy Beard:

First step – the full Bradley Beard.  And so it begins…

The Van Dyke (Yes, that is it’s real name.  I cannot vouch for the rest of the names on this page.)

The Stinky Goat, the preferred facial hair of men of our generation.  And the next generation.  Oh, yeah, the next too.  When oh when will the mustache waxed curly-cues make it back into vogue?

Mr. Mustachio

The Freddie Mercury

 

Pepe Le Pu, Pencil Thin Mustache

 

Oops.  Half Stache

My baby-faced babe, all shaved and clean.  I must admit, that first snuggle seemed extra soft.


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