February 19, 2012

My dearest,

You scream. I run into the bathroom, asking what is the matter – Did you hurt yourself? Drop your wallet into the toilet bowl? What?

“Look at my forehead,” you say, “look at my hairline – look at how high it is! I’m balding!”

I stare at you and I consider your slightly visible M-line. Receding a little, certainly. I tell you I can’t really tell and that you look fine. And bald men are sexy – look at Sean Connery and Lex Luthor.

“That doesn’t help,” you say, “I’m not a hero or a villain.”

I say, “You will always be my hero” – you smile at this – “though you are more like an evil villain, really. Maybe your supervillain name could be ‘The Bald Devil’?” and run out of the bathroom before you can catch me.

Yours, ever and always.