I admit it: I am bald.
Some of you may say that I am going bald, let’s just face it: I’m a few steps away from taking a straight razor to the remaining stragglers out there. The enemy has advanced and there seems no sign of surrender on its part.
So many people have noticed my beautiful baby girl Gloria as of late and say, “Oh, how sweet…she is so beautiful…she’s got Amanda’s smile…well, she looks like you with the hair…”
If I had a dollar for every time someone has pointed out the obvious statement like it was a new revelation, Gloria’s college would be paid for. Yes, my baby has some peach fuzz. Her mom didn’t have a full set of hair till later, so I suppose the jokes will continue for a while. But she is way prettier than me, and please don’t scar her for life by saying she looks like her bald daddy ;).
It’s OK. I’ve accepted the fact that male pattern baldness has overtaken me.
I was an early starter to this whole thing. I noticed it in my junior year of college. When I would play ultimate frisbee, I began to realize that my longer hair, at the time, would all kind of huddle up together in the middle into this swooping pattern.
One day, one of my best buddies, Steven Furtick, asked me if he could shave my head.
“No, I don’t think that would be a good idea, Bo.” While his head was shaved at the time, I just didn’t feel like I could or should go there.
“Please. You look so…you look like our dads.”
“I do not look like our dads.”
“Your haircut looks like you are an old man. It will be so much easier for the summer. Just let me shave one spot and then you’ll have to let me do the rest.”
As more of my friends became engaged in the craze at the Wood House that day, I gave into peer pressure. Steven shaved the middle section of my head in one swoop, and everyone stood back in amazement.
Everyone was staring at me as hair dropped to the floor.
One of my friends said, “Bo, you have a peninsula on your head.”
That’s when you know. I had a receding hairline. I am on the path to becoming bald. And I won’t ever be growing my hair back again.
Since those days, the enemy has slowly advanced through the regions of my cranium taking all that was left of what was good and brown at one time. Eli has asked me where my hair has gone. Everyone compares me to a bald baby. I get it – I am bald.
So, I’ve begun to look into a cure for male pattern baldness. And I think I have found it. It’s not Rogaine or anything else you might have heard of before. It’s very, very different.
You may wonder: how does it feel to be 31 and really, really hairless? It’s a delicate situation for sure. Would I like to have a full head of hair that I could gel, moose, or whatever you people do these days? Sure, why not. I don’t think anyone would look forward to signs of aging.
Does it bother me?
Not in the least.
Because my woman loves me the way that I am.
While I may not be the most handsome man in the world, my wife makes me feel that way.
Hopefully, the above humor has kept you to the real point of this blog: wives, you can provide enough significance in your husbands’ lives that they never have to look for it anywhere else. If he feels esteemed in your eyes, he won’t try so hard to be noticed in other arenas. He will naturally spend the most of his free time in the place where he feels the most appreciated. He will put in extra hours in the place where he feels most loved. He will often act like the man that you make him out to be.
Men, even if your wives don’t treat you like a king, it’s still your job to be faithful to your King.
But wives, you would be shocked at how powerful your words and actions are taken in the life of your husbands.
Today, I am thankful for a woman who makes me feel like a man. She esteems me. She appreciates me. And I honestly believe that she adores me.
And because of that, I can take on the world.