The many faces of Marc

Over the past two decades, I've been married to many men — all of whom actually exist in the body of my husband but each one of whom has had a unique face and look.
Because he's involved in community theater, I've lived with a bald man, a guy with a crew-cut, a guy with a battleship tatooed on his belly, The Music Man, the villian trying to kill Superman, the captain of the sinking Titanic, Buffalo Bill with a bullwhip, a crazed Catholic priest who did really bad magic, a murderer more than once and Huckabee from the Fantasticks.
Because he's game (and easily persuaded when I need him to help with Grandma's annual summer carnival) he's been a bone-sucking troll, a balloon-making clown and Harry Potter's Hagrid.
He's willing to look pretty silly and do dumb stuff for the right occasion.
Some might say he's a good sport but actually, sometimes it's embarrassing as we try to go to church and out in public as a couple.
People often just don't know what to say.
Grandchildren sometimes hide until they can be convinced that it's really just Grandpa Marc under the makeup or under the wig or behind the costume.
Some get-ups are easier to live with than others.
For instance, I didn't mind at all that he was crooning Elvis' Christmas tunes at the recent stake leadership party.
In fact, it's kinda fun to be his groupee.