There is a fundraiser going on at our school to raise money for a nearby orphanage. Part of this fundraiser is called "save or shave" wherein whichever bucket has the most money in it decides what my husband must do with his facial hair.
As you can see, the "save" bucket continues to have command.
If burrowing my face into this wild bush of scratchy hair to kiss my man every day as he leaves for work means children who are already in extreme want can have some of their needs met, than I am humbly willing to accept this state of things.
And who's to say it's not a bit of a treat to have someone daily reminding you of what Mary may have felt like, or even Mrs. Klaus for that matter.