Pluck You, Stray Eyebrow. Pluck. You.

This is one of those blog posts that my mom is going to cringe at.  She's going to tell me that I shouldn't be sharing such things with strangers.  The thing is, I think everyone should share things like this.  It makes us all more human - more relatable.

In an age where Facebook can literally make us depressed, I think it's more important then ever to share our imperfections just as much as that trip to the Dominican or Disney World.

So, with all this in mind...

O Stray Eyebrow, Stray Eyebrow, wherefore art thou Stray Eyebrow?  Deny thy eyebrow and refuse thy place; or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my wrath and I'll no longer be a nice plucker.  Shall I see more, or shall I speak at this?  'Tis but thy location that is my enemy; thou art thyself, though not a...

...chin hair.

I shall translate:

Be a nice eyebrow and go back home.  Leave my chin and you will no longer be my nemesis.

Yes...my chin.

It's definitely an eyebrow hair.  Dark and wiry.  Think what you will, but I refuse to think of it as anything else.

In fact, it just appeared one day in my early 30s.  POOF!  I was putting on makeup in my magnifying mirror, and I saw something about half an inch long hanging off my chin.

GASP!

What the heck?  How did I not see this before it was long enough to braid???

That's the tricky thing about this hair.  He disappears for while, and you forget all about him.  Then, one day, you're in the car on the way to an important event, and you get an itch on your chin.  AND.  YOU.  FEEL.  HIM.

Panic.

No tweezers.

Just a dark hair growing out of your chin like you should be part of the sequel to Hocus Pocus.

I cannot describe my loathing of this eyebrow enough.  He is cunning.  He is ugly.  He ages me.

Against my better judgment, I will dig for him when I get the slightest inkling that he's about to rear his ugly head.  Thus, I almost always have a red spot on my chin that I have to cover with concealer.

And when I do get hold of the little bass-terd, if he's too short he just snaps in half.  Thus requiring either more digging or patience...

PATIENCE!

Oh yes, I'm just gonna let him grow to be half an inch long again so that I can pluck him properly.

Umm, NO.

It is literally my worst nightmare that someone will see him one day.  I'm having coffee with someone, and they catch a flash of light coming from right under my chin.  They look for the culprit, and find him... shiny and dark and long.

He haunts me at night.

And yes, he's a he.  No lady would do such a thing to another woman.  It's evil.  He's evil.

So pluck you, buddy.  PLUCK.  YOU.

He says:

"Thy tweezers are quick.  Thus with a pluck I die."

But it's only temporary because I know he's coming back...

And he's bringing friends.

Say a prayer for me,

Kristin