Not by the hair on my chinny, chin, chin!

I have a meeting once-a-month with a woman who does nothing the WHOLE time…except feel for her chin hair.

Which then reminds ME that I haven’t felt for MY chin hair in a while.  So by the end of the meeting, the two of us look like we’re giving frantic “steal home” signals to a dozen imaginary baseball players.

In general, this is the best approach to chin hairs: Feel for them constantly no matter who is around.  And when you find one of them bristle-y sumbitches, pluck the heck out of it!  Create bloody holes if you have to.  Damn the torpedoes!!!  ‘Cause if you don’t snag that wascily wabbit in the short-bud stage, it’ll grow too long and soft, and then you can’t feel it anymore.  Which THEN makes you think you don’t have it anymore.  Like somehow your over-attentiveness permanently dried up that follicle.  Until weeks later you glimpse it in broad daylight in the car rear view mirror!  And then you can’t BELIEVE that no one in your family told you that you have one long black hair the size of a small child hanging from your chin.

Why am I even talking about all of this??  It’s just so top-of-mind because I had an even more horrifying facial hair encounter at the ear-doctor’s office.  I took my son there yesterday where there’s this audiologist with fried blond hair.  When I met her, I thought she had a flyaway piece of hair on her forehead with a crumb stuck in it.  Until I realized in one heart-stopping second that it was actually A HAIR GROWING OUT OF A WART IN BETWEEN HER EYEBROWS!!  AND IT HAD A CRUMB ON IT!!!

Aaaaccckkk!!!  When your wild-hair is so long it’s getting CRUMBS in it, you HAVE to know it’s there.  And at that point you’re just wearing it as a statement piece.  Right?!  What other reasonable explanation is there other than you have a sucky family who doesn’t tell you anything about your personal appearance.

And in the case of the audiologist, if her FAMILY isn’t gonna say anything?  Thank HEAVEN I didn’t say anything!  OR politely try to brush it off for her.  ‘Cause all I can think of now is the “polite brush off” scenario my little sister told me about one time – starring her best friend as the “brusher offer” and lil’ sis as the “person with the hair on her face.”  I’m not sure I remember the specifics of the story (other than the best friend thought lil’ sis had a rogue dog hair or some such stuck to her face?).  What I do very CLEARLY remember however, is the cringe-worthy feeling of horror I experienced after lil’ sis relayed that when best friend went to remove said hair, she found that lil’ sis’ FACE went along with it!  Tug, tug.  Tug, tug.  Oh.

And now?  It’s time for a song…

Long beautiful hair

Shining, gleaming, Streaming, flaxen, waxen

Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair

Flow it, show it Long as God can grow it

My hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair

Flow it, show it Long as God can grow it

My hair!

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