Blue beard

    Tomorrow again there will be a wedding. And the most unpleasant thing is that again he will be a bridegroom, again he will be introduced to his father-in-law, and then to his mother-in-law; again he will smile to her nicely and deep inside he will wish for her to join the previous ones as soon as possible. Only yesterday shaved off his blue beard, but the feeling is that it is growing back. However still, it is quite interesting – what kind of feint will this next wife do to make his beard to go blue again? For some reason he had no doubts that his beard will end up being blue. I am so sick of them, the devil take them! Thanks God that at least his wives made different gaffes every time. At least this part is interesting. The first one, as memory recalls, started wailing and howling unbearably because he didn’t put out candles on their first wedding night. He then got up silently, put them out, and went to sleep. And in the morning he woke up already without a wife and with a blue beard. “I’m sorry, my dear, but stuff happens…” Then there was another one, whatever her number was, but at that time it was the mother-in-law, who drove him nuts – and from that time on he has a prejudiced hate against all mothers-in-law, preferring to meet them right at the wedding to spare his nerves. So, that mother-in-law had a habit of sending him

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every morning a glass of hot milk with a never-changing note: “Good morning, dear son-in-law! I hope you will not forget to kiss your wife when she wakes up.” His tact prevented him from expressing his thoughts out loud, and one day he woke up in the morning and, upon finding that there were neither a glass of milk with a note nor his wife around, sighed with relief, and allowed himself to delight in bed longer than usual, but when he went to wash himself, he saw the blue beard and he understood everything. Then he got used to it – the blue beard even suited his blue eyes, singling him out of crowd of men; and that is why, probably, the number of women desiring to marry him did not diminish. But with whom he seemed to be lucky, that was with his fathers-in-law. They were becoming great friends, and so tomorrow there will be quite a gang of them already – jolly old men; as they will grow merrier, they will start as always recollecting their youth and then they will create a drunken brawl. Oh well, this is the last cigar and then can go to bed. Tomorrow I should look well rested and cheerful. Even though everything is so familiar already. The wedding ceremony takes place in the same church every time, and the service is performed by the same priest. Huh, it is so funny to meet his envious glances. It is so routine – like a dinner in the familiar restaurant. And is so interesting.

10-24-95 01:52am