Since I typed in the title of this blog post, I’ve been thinking about it. Is growthspurt one word? It looks funny. And yet, the word “spurt” by itself is also laugh-inducing.
Now, I haven’t posted in several days, and I have heard the outraged complaints of my loyal readers. I’m sorry. I wil do my best not to let it happen again. I considered making up a story about being away on a covert assassination attempt in order to rescue a struggling third-world nation from a tryrannical (likely cannibalistic) dictator. But that would have been false. I do that sort of thing from time to time, but not on this occasion. Really, I’ve just been busy, tired, and feeling un-creative.
Ok, so, the story at hand. Oliver has grown impressively during my absence.
He is in the puberty stages of development, really. We are on Day 90 of 365. And like any pubescent male, Oliver has been pretty moody. From day to day he takes on different shapes, with different angles. Somedays he’s fluffy, some day’s he’s frizzy. It’s kinda creepy.
Also like any teen, women are discovering him. I shan’t go into details about my personal life, but I will mention that Oliver attracts quite a bit of attention. Most of that attention is the “uhh, dude, that’s a pretty big freakin’ beard you’ve got there” type. But every now and then a young woman will strike up a conversation with me that is, maybe not flirty… but definitely FRIENDLY.
When this happens, I admit my own anti-beard bias. I know… it stuns me too! But when a girl seems a bit friendly to me, I think… this chick is crazy. Doesn’t she see the topiary on my face? I’m grotesque! I mean, I love Oliver, and will continue to cultivate him, but I don’t exactly see him as a chick magnet.
Further research will go into this. And tomorrow night’s post will have the more familiar prose-like story-telling format. Tonight I just wanted to get my feet wet again. I’ve missed you.