Craig has always been such a no-muss, no-fuss, low maintenance guy. He never wears cologne. He sometimes goes days without shaving. He’s lucky if he even remembers to look in the mirror when he gets dressed in the morning. And he only uses one product in the shower, which he worships: a 3-in-1 product (shampoo, conditioner, body wash all in one). His method? Pouring the product directly on his head, working up a lather, and then letting it run down the rest of his body so that the suds will catch whatever dirt in its path and wash it away.

I will admit, this uncomplicated simplicity is mostly why I fell in love with him. Though probably because I see him the way an artist sees a blank canvas upon which to paint a masterpiece.

But every artist struggles with her subject sometimes. For example, his haircuts have been a source of contention. His idea of a good haircut was to get it all completely shaved off so that within two weeks time, he can have a good looking haircut.

I thought that was completely absurd. Why wait two weeks for your hair to grow out into a good haircut? Why not get it cut and have it look good immediately? And who’s to say it would even grow out well? But again–uncomplicated simplicity. That was his thing.

It wasn’t until this week when we had some particularly cold weather that Craig came home from a long day, pulled off his winter hat and displayed the worst case of hat hair I’ve ever seen.

“What’s going on up there?” I asked, smiling and looking at his head when he walked into my office.

“What?”

“You’ve got some major hat hair,” I said. “You look like a mad scientist. Or Krusty the Klown.”

He walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. “Oh fucking hell.”

That pretty much decided it. I had plans this weekend to see my esthetician for my monthly facial treatment. She also happened to be located inside a hair salon. So while I would be getting my treatment, I scheduled an appointment for him to get his haircut.

While some women thought the salon or spa was their sacred space where they could get away from their husbands, I didn’t mind having him there.  In fact, it was actually kinda cute that we would be spending the afternoon at the salon together. “Do you need any waxing done?” I asked him. We were sitting in the car in the parking lot right before the appointment. “Maybe get your back waxed? Get your chest waxed? Make you nice and smooth.”

“No, thank you.”

“There’s a nail salon next door,” I said. “You could get a manicure and a pedicure without polish.”

“Ok, c’mon. Let’s just get this over with,” he said.

Within a few minutes of Oahn getting started on him, Jennifer my esthetician arrived and called me in for my treatment (more on that later). I was a little nervous for him just because I had no idea what this woman would do to this hair. The last thing I wanted was for him to have a bad experience here.

But when I was finished, I met him out in the waiting area where he was sitting there reading something on his phone and sporting a very handsome new look. I smiled at him, “Wow you look great.”

The other ladies in the salon were totally gawking over him. “Your husband is so sweet!” Swan, the owner, said to me. “You trained him well.”

I laughed and Craig blushed, “Ok, c’mon, let’s get out of here. I’m already embarrassed,” he said. I thanked my esthetician and said goodbye to the other ladies.

“Oanh did such a great job,” I said as we got into the car.

“Are you sure? I can’t even tell,” he said. He was probably too nervous to really notice when she had finished. It wasn’t until we stopped at Taco Bell and he looked at himself in the mirror of the men’s restroom that he was able to take in what he really looked like.

“Ok, I have to say…” he inserted a dramatic pause, “This is the best goddamn haircut of my life.”

“See! I told you!”

All throughout lunch, I kept gazing at him from across the table. He looked so different. Like a new man almost. “I can’t stop looking at you,” I said. “You look so handsome.”

“Wow you’re totally into me aren’t you?” he said, really impressed with himself.

“Yeah I kinda wish we got our food to go. I want to hurry up and take you home,” I said suggestively. And then followed by my Joey Tribbiani impression, “How you dooin’?” We both laughed.

His new haircut gave him newfound confidence that he hadn’t known before. All weekend he strutted around the house like a stallion, chest puffed out like the only rooster in the hen house. I noticed he took Izzie out on a neighborhood walk despite the twenty-degree weather. And then Sunday afternoon, he said, “Shady’s? For dinner?”

Craig’s not usually one to suggest going out to eat.

“Wait a second! I know what you’re doing,” I said. “You’re peacocking!”

“Peacocking? What’s that?”

“You know, when male peacocks are trying to attract a mate, they strut around displaying their feathers,” I said. “You’re strutting around displaying you’re new hair cut! You’re peacocking!”

He patted his coiffed hair. “Maybe.”

I laughed. I didn’t mind. If all my husband needed was a good haircut to make him feel as confident as I believed he should be, then it’s worth it.

Today Facebook congratulated me on my 10 year anniversary on the social network.

Since being immersed in social media (both working in it at my previous agency and participating in it in real life), I’ve shared a lot of my life online. Even before social media was even a thing, I kept an online blog that I wrote in as if it were a diary of sorts. Being online is like second nature for me.

However, in recent years, I’ve noticed people have become too comfortable sharing everything from the most intimate details of their life to the most mundane. Why do we share our lives online? And why are some people prone to sharing while others aren’t?

A while ago, my friend and I were chatting about some of the things people shared on Facebook and how lame they were. She gave me an example about one friend who gushed about her husband taking out the garbage and cleaning up the kitchen all on his own. “What a great hubby! I’m the luckiest girl in the world! Love you babe!” and then the two proceeded to suck face via the Facebook comments. It was nauseating.

I thought it was funny that she was giving her husband a virtual trophy for doing what he should be doing anyway, which is sharing the responsibility over basic household chores.

Maybe there are things that just don’t need to be shared. These things are the moments that no one else is really supposed to witness. Not because it’s forbidden, but just because that’s what intimacy is.

For example, last night Craig had just come home from a long day at work. It was a Friday night and we were both looking forward to just relaxing the rest of the evening. After changing into his pajamas, he stood at the kitchen counter snacking on crackers and hummus. I had just washed my hands so they were freezing cold from the tap water, so I snuck up behind him and slid my cold hands up his shirt and around his torso, causing him to jump and dance while letting out a scream while his mouth was still filled with food. “Aaahhh! Aaahh! Aaaaahhh!” he shouted in a falsetto voice. It was the funniest sound I’d ever heard come out a human, so I kept tickling him with my cold hands and he kept dancing like a marionnette with crackers in his mouth.

When he finally wiggled out of my grasp, we were both doubled over in laughter at the pure silliness of it. I thought, “Man, if people saw us, they would probably be laughing at how dumb we are.”

It was then I realized that perhaps maybe we shared the lame and mundane things on Facebook because, although it may be meaningless to others, it makes us happy. We want to believe that we can make other people happy by sharing our joy, no matter what form it may be. Because once you know what it’s like to be in a relationship where you can stay true to yourself and be comfortable doing silly things with each other, you hope others can find that as well.