Yep, There's A Hair There

It was a glorious summer morning, one of those days where there's nothing to do and all day to do it in. The children snuggled in bed with me. We luxuriated, sleeping in. Even Husband was home, an irregularity in the summer. It was beautiful, the four of us piled in my bed.

Except for the itch.

At first, it was just a normal itch. I scratched my chin. It went away.

But 10 seconds later it was back. I scratched. It returned. And so it went.

As the children clamored for pancakes, I headed to the bathroom. I have a 3 stage process for waking up: shower, Starbucks, news. Temporally, Stage 1 goes down before anyone eats. And it was in Stage 1 that the reason for my persistent chin itch became indelibly clear.

There was a hair there.

A quarter inch of bristly, white hair stuck out of my chin, where no hair had been the night before. I would love to say this was an anomaly, but that would be a sad, sad lie to us both.

Once upon a time, I could shave and have 3 days of smooth legs for my efforts. And while I've never needed eyebrow pencil, a waxing once a month was enough to give me some Brooke Shields realness. I was glib enough to believe that "upper lip hair" on a woman was euphemistic for "mustache". What a smooth-skinned idiot I was.

Fast forward. Two children and one IUD later,  and The Hair War is waged daily in my bathroom and across my body. God forbid I go out at night - that warrants a second scan for those ghastly betrayals my body grows like weeds. It seems no area of my skin is safe.

I now need to shave (legs/pits/bikini) every 1.5 days. I'm not kidding. If I shave tonight, I will not be sex-ready tomorrow night. I don't go anywhere without tweezers - I need them daily as much as I need my Starbucks. I've tried waxing. I have. And because I have, I now know exactly how to procure a razor in Jamaica.

Confession time. A few years ago, I had appendicitis. For a full day, I refused to go to the hospital. You see, Husband and I both work in health care. And I was not - was not - risking seeing someone either of us knew when that hair that was sticking out of my neck refused to be plucked.

Of course, in an awful paradox, I couldn't stand long enough to shower. For two days. We all know what that made of my legs/pits/bikini. I explained my plight to every single person I crossed at the hospital.

So why do I tell you this now? Well, I took a new class at the gym. We jump rope. And in that moment, I had a new emission from my body.

Never, ever jump rope after 2 kids and 1 Starbucks. Now the hair doesn't seem so bad.