Bathsheba (King David’s Wife)
Abraham Lincolns Wife
Elizabeth Taylor (old school)
Wait for it….
I have never seen a more attractive dark haired woman than my wife.
I had always pegged myself as liking blonde hair throughout my life. Perhaps it was because it seemed, as my wife says, “blondes have more fun!” A statement which I know to be decidedly untrue.
For the most of our time together, Bunny has had blonde hair. For one brief moment several years ago she went dark and I loved it! She quickly went back to her comfort zone/trademark blonde hair because dark just “didn’t fit her”.
YEARS went by until I found a picture in a drawer of her dark hair and I remembered how much I loved the way it looked. I begged her to go back. She refused. I counter-begged. She counter-refused. I didn’t want to let her stubborn attitude get between me and success.
Finally, after some rabid debate, we came upon an agreement.
Bunny would color her hair if…I let my hair grow out and shave my facial hair regularly. Bunny hated the fact I kept my hair so short (sometimes molecules short from being bald).
A great example of how short I did enjoy keeping my hair.
I would also let my facial hair grow for a week or two until shaving. Kissing me was like kissing a piece of steal wool she said. I would grow bored looking one way so I would grow my facial hair in ways like this:
“Hmmm… this could work in my favor!” I thought. This might actually work. I enjoy kissing my wife. Kissing sometimes leads to other things. If I keep my glowing countenance tidy, shaved and ready for action… perhaps I would get more action AND get her to change her hair color. It seemed like a win-win situation for me.
I just wasn’t sure I would enjoy all the time it took to grow my hair out. I’m just too impatient to wait for the results of long, wavy or even curly locks. It’s been so long since I’ve let me hair grow out… I don’t know what it would look like. Oh well… change is good and exciting so…
“You got yourself a deal!” I said with some spring in my step. I couldn’t wait for my “new” wife to show up some day when I least expected it.
Months passed because, unfortunately, I struck this deal with her when I happened to look like Yul Brenner in “The King and I”.
Very slowly, I kept up my end of the bargain. I shaved regularly and didn’t get my hair cut except to keep it trim. Every once in a while I would replant the seed of our deal in her subconscious.
“Look at my hair!” I would say. “It’s getting long! It hasn’t been this long in years! I think I’m going to let it grow into a pony tail. Maybe I should dye it black!”
She would hem and haw and claim that her hair was “just the way she wanted it”, “everyone knows me as a blonde” and “why do you want me to change?”
“We… had… a deal”. Would be my comment.
She agreed that we indeed had made a deal and she would treat me to my surprise at the cusp of the winter months since “dark = winter” and “blonde = summer”. So I had to wait some more.
Several more months passed and until I was aware she was going to a hair appointment and she kept me in the dark about what exactly she was going to do. I had my suspicions that perhaps this was going to be it… she was actually going to color her hair that sassy dark she had done so many years ago.
I got my confirmation when she called me after her appointment and sounded as though she was going to choke me through the telephone.
Her depression could clearly be interpreted through the phone line and it wasn’t until at that moment that I felt bad. It wasn’t my intention to do something she genuinely would get depressed and angry about. I thought she, as I had, would grow to love her new look and perhaps run with it.
But clearly, she was ready to go back and get it re-colored to anything but the color her hair had been left this day. The one and only reason she did this was because of me… and I did feel bad about it.
My drive home from work that day was met with many scenarios running through my brain. I actually started to believe that perhaps it didn’t look good and that I was going to have to pretend to like it.
This fear was quickly squashed when after pulling into the garage the kitchen door opened and out stepped my dark haired wife looking like a model from Maxim magazine or any other various men’s publication. I didn’t have to pretend I liked her hair because I was blown away.
She smiled through my praise and assured me she did not like her hair one bit and thought that everyone who told her they liked it was obviously lying just to make her feel better. I assured her that this beyond a shadow of a doubt was all in her mind and that she looked like one million bucks… no, better than that… two million bucks.
As if things couldn’t have gotten much better for me, we were going out that night to a friend’s birthday party downtown which involved her dressing to the nines. Bunny’s svelte body, newly acquired denim leggings and dark mane were nearly too much for me to handle.
Yes. She is mine. Now go away.
I literally felt as though I may explode or that I needed to keep a muzzle around my mouth to prevent my tongue from constantly hitting the floor. Every person we walked by I imagined them thinking, “Why is she with THAT GUY!!” I made the comment that if anyone saw us, they may have thought I was out on the town with another woman because of how drastically the dark hair changed Bunny’s appearance.
Let me just be clear, I have always had a 14 year old infatuation with the way my wife looks, dark hair or not…but I think one of the keys to having a successful marriage is being willing to change things up a bit. I felt very blessed to have a wife willing to sacrifice what she held so dear (her blonde hair) to make me happy… and perhaps that was another reason I was uncontrollably drooling.
I took a few picture of Bunny’s backside in her leggings that night (I was going to post one of them but she threatened me with a kick to the gonads). I stared at her when she wasn’t looking. I secretly time warped in my mind to the “after party”. I danced on her when she wasn’t looking… I didn’t even know that was possible! I felt like I was on a first date trying to impress her again!
I have a beautiful wife and I’m not just saying that to get laid tonight… I mean it. She looked beautful with blonde hair and she looks tremendous with dark hair. Hell, if she was bald she’d still be hotter than most Hooters waitresses with hair. But finally allow me to get to the point of this whole post. She needs to know how freakin’ awesome her dark hair is. I have tried time and time again to get this stupid freakin’ poll to work on my blog and I can’t figure it out so LEAVE A COMMENT on what you think of her hair… good or bad (good… say good things!). I have my opinion… but I’ll let you be the judge.
Okay that was really wrong… I was totally kidding.
Seriously this time:
I’ve made my case… now you make yours.