Chinny Chin Chin

It is the eve of birthday number sixty-two. Hubby, knowing how I love flashy costume jewelry, made a special trip to my favorite shop and bought me the most sparkly, gorgeous set I think I've ever seen (even if I compare it with the one he bought me when he was afraid I was going to die). I don't save the beautiful things for a special occasion.  I wear them daily, like a soap opera star, because every day is a special occasion. I can't wait to wear this one.

However.....

As he gently took my face in his hands, and as I prepared for a whopper of a long, sweet pre-birthday kiss....he began to chuckle, then snort, and finally there was a guffaw that would wake angels. Talk about a mood changer. The cause of the mirth?

A hair....a single hair on my chinny chin chin. Damn. First the gobbler neck (worthy of its own essay) and now this.

I've taken care of the mustache thing, thanks to Sue and her magic wax and to Hubby's Gillette Fusion. (Thanks for the inheritance, Grandma D.)  But this...this horrid thing is new.

I've finally finished reading all the material that came with my various medications. Side effects include weight gain (check), sleepiness and/or insomnia (check), dry mouth (check), darkening of the eyes, enzyme changes (check and check) and a host of other complications. Not once is stray facial hair mentioned--not once!

So now what? Am I going to grow a goatee? Will I have to wear even bigger earrings (any bigger, says my friend and confidant, and  I will need a hoist to put them on) or shorter skirts (not at my age!) or lower cut blouses to enhance my already mildly flamboyant femininity? 

Hubby says I'm over-reacting. It was, after all, only one hair that he yanked from my face. But I remember Mom...that little hair would pop out not just overnight, but in seconds. She hated that hair in the days when her mind was working. Later, when she no longer cared about anything, I would see that hair grow, and tell her I wanted to tweeze it, and she'd get mad.  I'd give up, and there that hair would stay.

So.... I've justified that I need more pretty necklaces (no such thing as too many!)  that do multi-duty--hide the still-visible scar, hide the wrinkle (And how do you hide yours? Yes, you have one, too) and draw attention away from the whiskers. Geez.

Compliment my eyes, admire my jewelry (you can add to my collection, if you'd like), keep your opinion  to yourself on my too-young wardrobe or my chubby curves.

And please feel free to ignore the hair on my chinny chin chin.