I encountered a woman the other day, that made my fear worse. Way worse.
In fact I have encountered a couple of those women this week.
Now what I want to know is this…
Do you stop looking in the mirror at some point? Do you need to put your readers on when you are grooming yourself? I am not sure what the excuse would be.
The first woman had a mole on her face with short hairs that had obviously been cut at some point, but not recently enough.
Bad enough right?
The second woman had a hair as long as the hair on my head. Growing out of her face mole. Except it was curled. So it just surrounded the mole. Seriously. I can’t get the vision out of my head, so I am sharing it with you, so you can’t either.
And she had a husband. Right there beside her.
I am hoping that in our old age, Bruce will tell me if he sees anything even remotely like a long hair growing out of my freaking face. I know I will and do tell him :)
I expect it from my friends too. I will also return the favor.
I already have the nightmare chin hair that I have to be on the lookout for. It’s gross, and it shows up overnight. But I am going to pluck that bitch out as soon as I see it.
I recommend as we get older that we get one of those big ass magnifying mirrors. My Mom has one, it scares the shit out of me every time I look in it.
That is what some people need. To be scared shitless.
Now don’t get me wrong here, this isn’t about moles with hair. It’s about facial hair. When there shouldn’t be any.
It happens when we get older, I get that…but it really doesn’t mean that we should ignore it. Other people can see it. Again it’s like picking your nose. We can see you.
It’s not pretty.
I don’t care if you are 80…you should still care, you really should. And if you are married to it…tell them, gently…that they should maybe check it out and um like…do something about it.
Consider it a favor to those of us who can still see up close, and who have to talk to you and keep it together.
I want to be able to make eye contact with you and have a nice conversation. I can’t if I am scared your hair is going to come alive and possibly kill me.
And I don’t hide my terror very well. I might even find some way to get out of dealing with you, or talking to you.
And that would suck.
I don’t really have a catchy ending to this post…I wish I did. It just makes me a little speechless I suppose. Which doesn’t happen very bloody often.
Here is to a less hairy tomorrow…