Men are what their testosterones say they are

A good-looking man. (Courtesy)

Twice, my marriage has been rocked by hair, of all things. The first time I was heavily pregnant. It was not a difficult pregnancy, but I was extra emotional and there was no knowing what would cause me to cry a river, and I only cried huge rivers. For instance, my husband was very predictable in his arrival time after work and if he was ten minutes late, I would stand at the balcony and cry. It was that bad.

So that first time, he, the man I call my bed mate, came home from work with his beautiful locks chopped off. I was on the sofa watching television when who I thought was a stranger opened the door, and smiled at me. It took me a few moments to recognise him. I broke down, and cried for hours. For those hours, I could not talk but I was processing the betrayal posing as a lover. How could he, knowing very well how much I treasured his hair, chop it off without asking for my opinion!