My husband is disgusting. I love him, but he's totally grossing me out. On Sunday I happened to walk into the bathroom only to catch him in a vulnerable situation: barefoot. Jermaine is not the barefoot type, we're like Dharma and Gregg when it comes to that - I would walk around barefoot in the middle of winter, Jermaine wears socks with his crocs at the beach. Anyway, I let out a horror-movie scream, which immediately sent the kids running into the bathroom to see what all the hysterics were about. It was the ungodly sight of my husbands disgustingly overgrown claws (yes, they were claws). Toenails are short and blunt, claws curve down and scratch the floor when the beast walks. When I stopped screaming I began a short series of dry heaves; once I gained composure I begged him to cut the claws. At that point he informed me that they were to "protect me, should an intruder enter our home in the middle of the night". Not cute.
So the claws coupled with the werewolf-style growth on his face has let me to boycott him until he 1) clips the claws back to toenails, and 2) Trims his beard (no man should have hair from their eye brows to their toes - there should be some separation in the face area (my husband literally has hair growing under his eyes).
So far he has resisted, and has remained unkissed (by Amelle and I, who have joined forces). He probaby won't cut them until they break the leather of his new sneakers and poke out the front, or shred our bed linens, whichever comes first.