Wife speak: Hubby’s aftershave saves the day...well, almost

I bumped into Mercy, my neighbour, at the car park and we both laughed at how different we looked after months of being holed indoors.

“I barely recognised you!” I blurted before thinking of a subtler way to express my surprise at seeing her with a leso on her waist and in flat shoes, no makeup.

“This Covid will show us things,”  she sighed.

“You can say that again.”

“Your hair, what fertilizer are you using?” she asked, making the classical theatrical drumming sound as she removed the scarf on her head.

I laughed as she revealed homemade cornrows that I suspect were her five year old’s handiwork. The amateur flat twists did not know where they were going or coming from. I had let my hair grow out into what my son referred to as a lion’s mane.

“I call mine the Hallelujah afro.” I told her.

 “Tutajua hatujui.”

We kept our safe distance as we let the morning sun soak in our already jaundiced skins and chatted. Talking to other people outside the family members that we are locked in with every waking hour is refreshing. Soon enough, Susan, another neighbour waved from her balcony. She joined us a few moments later, keeping her distance. She looked official waist up, sporty waist down. If you know, you know.

“I just got off a call. Technology fatigue is real!” She said, stretching, her hands extended to catch some warmth of the sun. Like a yawn, we all instinctively mimicked her.

“I think I now understand why the ancient people worshipped the sun.” I quipped.

If we thought this pandemic has impacted how we work, we know only the one chapter of the story. The rest of the chapters are found in the very homes that we are hibernating in. For instance, of all other conversations we have had in the last decade or so with hubby, hair has not featured much. Save for the occasional jokes about him sprouting grey hair on his eye brows, what other hair conversation can one have with a husband, unless he is in the hair business? Thanks to Covid, turns out, there is a lot to converse about. He has not been to the Kinyozi in more than five months. From a bald head - he of the weekly shave – to a full head of bushy whorls.

“My goodness, your hair is getting longer than mine!” I exclaimed the other day, tugging at one curl. It was inches long when pulled into a straight strand.

“It is a nightmare combing it,” he said.

“You should not comb your hair, unless when wet.”

“No. You need to apply conditioner and comb it,” our daughter chipped in.

“Shampoo?” he asked, looking as clueless as a hitherto bald headed guy would. If you are desperate for wild growth of your natural hair, lounge indoors for many months. Trust me on this one.

 A few days later, we were discussing the best blades for shaving; for me. Let me clarify; the only hair a woman desires on her body is the one on her head. We will do whatever it takes to achieve the mane that our hearts desire, whether that be from a horse’s tail or porcupine spikes. A woman’s hair is as expensive as a man’s shoe, only the latter lasts longer than a month. But, any other hair elsewhere in a woman’s body is unwanted and must be tweezed, waxed or plucked out. Now, considering that this is not the season to enjoy the luxurious or is it torturous hours in the spa waxing and tweezing, what is a woman to do? Ask hubby about shaving and aftershave options.

“I want a shaving blade that won’t make me feel like I have a beard where there should be none.” With the wrong hair growing faster than you can say bushy, and reading about the health concerns of shaving creams, the option of using his shaving machine was very appealing.

“Is there an aftershave that doesn’t sting?” He laughed when I told him about his harsh aftershave. It had not expired as I at first thought.

“None I have heard of. Maybe just wait it out, the hair.”

Granted, a strange season comes with weird discussions. Other than hair, what strange going ons are happening at yours and how are you coping?

The writer is a wife who believes in marriage. [email protected]