My husband is a Blackhawks fan. He’s been a fan for a looooong time, even before his sister and husband partied with the Blackhawks at their own wedding and drank from the friggin’ Stanley Cup.
The Blackhawks are in the playoffs right now, which means Kevin is growing out his Playoff Beard. It has become like a sixth member of our household and a scratchy third wheel in our relationship.
Tonight, before Kevin turned on the game, he told the boys: Look, I’m about to turn on the game. Have you all been growing out your beards this week?
Vincenzo: Dad, I’m seven.
K: Vincenzo, this is important. Have you shaved recently?
Me: Does plucking count? Because I’ve done a lot of plucking in the last week.
I was instructed to root for the Redwings, just in case.
The Blackhawks started the game off poorly so Kevin texted our BIL to accuse him of shaving because someone must have shaved for the Blackhawks to be playing this way. I pointed out that his own father was shaving every day—blatantly shaving–so maybe he is the weak link.
Kevin just stroked his beard and kept watching the Blackhawks lose.
I suggested maybe he’s got it wrong, that maybe it’s not Playoff Beard that the entire Stanley Cup rests so precariously on; maybe he’s supposed to be getting me Playoff Roses instead. I could have 2.5 weeks of roses in my house instead of 2.5 weeks of this:
(I took this picture of Kevin when I was helping two of my sisters virtually shop for my oldest sister, hence the pink skirt. It led to the following texts:
Sister: I think Kevin will look very fresh & flirty in the pink lacy skirt.
Me: Thanks. It’s because of his fun and flirty playoff beard.
Sister: I could tell he probably asked to model the skirt & you had to insist he just hold it up in front.
Me: It’s like you were there.
) (Bet you thought I was going to forget the out-parentheses, didn’t you?)
WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Ham and turkey crepes
Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp (thanks, Tati!)