Let’s take a break from our regularly scheduled programming to celebrate Valentine’s Day. We are not one of those overly cheesy couples who shower each other with bouquets of flowers, candlelight dinners, boxes of chocolates, and soliloquies on Instagram about how nauseatingly in-love we are. That being said, we’re also not those overly jaded couples who bash Valentine’s Day and all it commercialism.
I like to think that we fall somewhere in between. I buy the cheesy card. I write the Instagram-worthy soliloquy in the card for Jeff’s eyes only because, frankly, no one gives a crap (other than our Moms) about how much we love each other. I cook some sort of meal that is usually consumed by flickering candlelight…with Zoe and Elsie as our ever-present dinner dates. I don’t usually get flowers. Or boxes of chocolate (it’s not local, anyways). But… I get long hair.
Bradley Cooper. Chad Kroeger. Jon Bon Jovi circa 1980s. I have a thing for guys with long(ish) hair. Add to that list now Jeff Feddema.
As a pre-cursor I should make it known that way back 11 years ago when Jeff and I became an official “item,” Jeff was quite adamant about me not changing his appearance. He oh-so romantically claimed my heart and then somehow stated in the same breath that he did not want me to be one of those girlfriends that made him go to the mall to take him shopping for new clothes. If I didn’t like the way he dressed or did his hair or wore his socks with sandals, then I could lump it. So, because I was swooning from all the romance, I acquiesced.
Eleven years later, I have kept up my end of the bargain. I do not take him shopping. Instead, I do his shopping. Way easier. And, since I am a former licensed hairstylist, I also cut his hair, leaving him at the mercy of my scissors. So, no, I have truly had nothing (overtly) to do with any change in my hubby’s appearance. If change has happened, it has only been born out of practicality.
That is until we watched the movie A Star is Born, starring Bradley Cooper and I made some off-hand remark about how I liked Bradley Cooper’s hair. At that point in time, Jeff was likely overdue for a haircut by at least a month. A few weeks after having watched the movie, when I asked if Jeff would like his hair cut, he said something along the lines of, “No, thanks. I’ve decided I’m growing it. You always say that you like long hair on guys and since I don’t really care how I look that much, I’ve decided that I’m growing my hair for you.” Cue stunned silence. Turns out, Jeff is now channeling his inner (albeit ginger) Bradley Cooper. Be calm, my beating heart.
So for those of you who have been wondering about Jeff’s increasingly bushy hair (it’s curly…which means it grows out before it grows down, apparently), it’s probably the most romantic proclamation of love I could ever receive from a guy who founded our relationship upon “liking it or lumping it.” You guys can have your cards and flowers and candlelight and chocolates. I’m going to be kicking back this Valentines, running my fingers through Jeff’s long, flowing mane. (Or, more realistically, taking a picture of the girls putting barrettes in his hair. Because that’s now a bedtime ritual in our house.)