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Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology The Final Frontier the Down in the Dirt May-August 2022 issues collection book		get the 420 page May-August 2022 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

Why My Beard Was My Mother’s Mortal Enemy
or Why Santa Was Lucky His Mother Wasn’t Jewish

Bryan Franco

The fact that I have a white beard
makes me look at least ten years older than my age.
Without the beard, I still look older
than both my elder brothers who are respectively
a-year-nine-months and four-years-seven-months older than me.
My mother adamantly disapproved of my beard,
no matter how well-groomed it was.
Her constant vocal disapproval bordered on emotional abuse.
When it turned from a streaky auburn to white
(when she was still alive),
she was never remiss to point out
that it added an extra ten years on me.
After one of the many times she asked me to shave my beard,
I suggested she stop frosting her gray hairs.
Because she went through labor with me,
her unsolicited advice was appropriate,
but mine was demeaning.
Such double standards were standard practice in my family
which I can honestly say was filled with love and hugs
even if my mom always kept a beard trimmer handy
just in case I came to my senses.

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