"Oh...yeah...baby, that's how I like it.  I bet you taste as good as you smell, huh!?!  You look so hot!  That's right...keep going...you're almost there...yes...YEs...YES!!!

Beep, Beep, Beep.

"Coffee's ready!"

You realize, I already know, that perhaps I just might have a slight problem with coffee and I'm pretty sure that there is a clinical term for it out there, somewhere, accurately descriptive of my addiction to caffeine and/or my fetish for counter top appliances.

Whatever the case may be, my husband has never denied that I am a much better person for it and allows me those first few precious moments in the day, when he feeds the kids breakfast, so that I can enjoy a few minutes of quiet, alone in the shower, every morning.

He's a lovely man, I know - especially now that he's growing his whiskers back!

When I first met my husband - a blind date set up by his oldest sister - besides his beautiful green eyes, I was happy to learn that he had a mustache!  It tickled when he kissed me and it didn't take long for me to fall in love with the rest of him.

Imagine my delight when he decided to grow a beard - the winter our second child was born and he was in between jobs and grew a full-blown beard in a defiant act against "the man!" - thankfully, he was able to find work a few months later but, sadly enough, the beard had to...

"GAAAAAAH!"

I was just as surprised as my husband when my daughter took one look at his clean-shaven face, buried her head in my neck and started to cry.

After a while, it finally occurred to us that our 8 month old did not know her father, without his beard.

Eventually, she (and I) grew used to his mustache, until he didn't like the fact it was turning very gray and thought it made him look...gasp!...older.

"It's your face, sweetie - do what you want."

So, off came the mustache and...

"Ahhhh...look at Daddy's face!"

My then 4-year-old son was stunned into immobility with his mouth agape and his hands still reaching for the cereal box, frozen in midair.

Dang it!

Confused by my son's sudden outburts and thinking that his father had, you know, finally managed to cut off his nose, I turned too quickly and ...GASP!...spilled my coffee.

"I know, but now we can see Daddy's handsome face.  It's only hair, buddy.  It'll grow back.  He looks great, right!?!"

My son's blue eyes welled up with tears.

"No, I wuved your mush-tash, Daddy - put it back!"

He did - well, not right away - it's only been two weeks and he says it itches like mad, but this time it's a goatee (looks a lot like Eddie Izzard) and I swear, it's like I'm falling in love all over again, only different.

Wonder if it's the same for him - whenever I color my hair!?!