We’ve been together for years, 18 to be exact, and at this stage of the relationship romance is mostly defined by comfortable silences, avoiding other people, and sharing financial anxiety over municipal bills.
It is no longer romantic having my skin sanded off my face, against my will, each time my husband attempts affection. At this stage I believe a Grade 40 sander against my skin will be smoother, so to save myself from looking like a stressed teenager - I decided to take matters into my own hands. A new obsession was born: Oils or beard oil to be more specific.
First we need a crash course, which is typically presented by Google and Gemini - my two favorite assistants. I quickly learned the difference between a carrier and essential oils, and before I could stop myself I was off to a local retailer, which meant I had to go outside and talk to strangers.
Batch 0: The mad chemist
I used the information I got from my crash course, and I grabbed all sorts of carrier and essential oils, trying to sound like an expert, and not someone who did a couple of quick searches online.
The strategy was simple: sniff everything, blend by gut instinct, and hope my husband doesn’t break out in hives.
I mixed Batch 0 in a 15 mL roll-on bottle and instructed him to apply it daily. After the first day, I swore I could already feel a difference, but needless to say by day 5, he was begging me for a new batch.
Batch #1: Scaling up the delusion
Flushed with mostly unearned, I produced Batch #1. I made six bottles. Did I accurately measure all of the ingredients? Well, if eyeballing it counts as a measurement - then sure, let’s say I measured. The new batch was ready to be applied, and then the trimmer incident happened.
High on the feel of his newly softened stubble, he decided to do a “quick touch-up.” One slip of the wrist and he shaved the thing clear off. We are back to bare skin. Day 1.
The test bottles are currently sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting patiently for the new stubble to arrive.
