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Blinded by the Beard

A lot of people apparently believe I'm a red-head. Not flame ginger red but red just the same. In fact, the hair on the top of my head is a dirty blond. As a toddler I was, like my brother and cousins, a golden blonde. What fools people is my beard. It is indeed red, or was; it's now streaked with grey. Somehow, all people saw was red hair. The beard is now more of a goatee but in the old days it was full. Well, full some of the time. I used to stop shaving during my two week summer holidays and by the time I went back to work I had a good enough beard. It would then grow for a while. Then I would attempt to cut it with the kitchen scissors. Year after year all I did was cut doorsteps in my facial fungus and had to go clean shaven until the summer holidays came again. Oh, my eyebrows are black. Three hair colours on one head. 


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