Tracy Beckerman column: Hair today, gone tomorrow
I know we’ve already talked a lot about chin hairs in this column, but I just have to bring it up one more time because this morning I woke up and looked in the mirror - which is something I try to avoid doing at all costs these days - and I saw that a MAMMOTH chin hair had appeared overnight.
Usually I can feel them as they start to emerge, but this one didn’t emerge. It burst through full length in a matter of hours, like the beanstalk in Jack and the Beanstalk. It seemed to defy all laws of nature and had total disregard for the rules of female facial hair. It was so long, I decided it needed its own name.
So, I called it Chinzilla.
When I looked closer, I saw there were actually two more hairs near it that were smaller, but still visible, so I called them the Chinettes.
Chinzilla and the Chinettes.
I seriously thought they were going to break into song. Or maybe eat a florist named Seymour. (That was a Little Shop of Horrors reference, by the way).
Meanwhile, I had to wonder if someone had spread chin hair fertilizer all over my face while I was sleeping. But I suspected I might have noticed if someone threw Miracle Grow on my chin in the middle of the night.
It’s not like I could have missed it the day before because I swear it wasn’t there. And clearly, if Chinzilla had been there the day before, I’m sure my husband would have noticed. But if he had noticed, he obviously didn’t tell me, which is kind of annoying. Unfortunately, we made a pact before we went into quarantine, that for the sake of our marriage, he wouldn’t mention my chin hairs and I wouldn’t mention his nose hairs. I thought that was a fair trade. Still, there are some things that really need to be brought to someone’s attention, such as spinach in your teeth, and food on your face, and chin hairs that are so long they should have their own zip code.
After I was done marveling at this wonder of female evolution, I knew Chinzilla had to be removed from the premises, forthwith! So, I got out my trusted tweezers and went to pluck the outlier out. But it wouldn’t budge. It didn’t even quiver. It was like it had grown roots that wrapped around my jawbone.
Apparently Chinzilla, like Dame Judy Dench, was not to be trifled with. (That was a Jane Austen reference, by the way).
Anyway, that’s when I knew I had to take more aggressive measures. I went into our toolbox and got out a pair of needle nose pliers and faster than you can say menopause, I yanked that sucker out.
I decided to keep Chinzilla in a box as a reminder to all future chin hairs that I was not to be trifled with. Then I went downstairs and told my husband to trim his damn nose hairs.
You can follow Tracy on Twitter @TracyBeckerman and become a fan on Facebook at www.facebook.com/LostinSuburbiaFanPage.