“It’s time!” She proclaimed, laughing.
“What?” Buried under the lumber jack hair on his face, Oliver’s deep dark eyes sparkled with child-like wonderment as he gawked over his book at the items in her hands. “It’s not spring yet.”
“Oh but it is Oliver! I just saw the first spring flowers.”
“What already?” He went to the window to see for himself. When he turned back he knew it was over. “Come on just one more week?”
He was so very handsome; she missed seeing his full face. Her husband’s desire to have that scratchy beard during winter was like kissing a bear. She was ready to have his smooth face back. She shook her head. “No sweetie. It’s time for that beard to go!