After coffee and breakfast, contemplating the day, I rubbed my chin. Caught between my finger and thumb was . . . A RANDOM CHIN HAIR!!!!!!!!! Menopause!
A thin scrawny chin hair that I hadn’t seen in the mirror (I have to start wearing glasses and using that 10x mirror) reflection in the four months this thing had grown. (Basing on its length and the estimation of a half an inch a month growth.) I let go in my panic and stroked my chin again to be sure it wasn’t just my imagination.
Nope. This time when I caught it tenderly between thumb and forefinger, I could pull my chin skin out from bone. EEK! It is real!
I am proud of my containment. I didn’t screech nor scream. Sadly, social media has gotten to me and I reached for my phone to take a close up picture of this new aging phenomenon. Before I could get a snapshot, the little wisp broke. Thankfully there is still enough collagen in my chin that the skin snapped back in place. Thankful for small mercies.
My husband is now in charge of unwanted hair growth on my face. His response? “It’s like checking you for ticks, got it.” Imagine the sound of a male parental voice exasperated at what else a mischievous child has yet again gotten into, rather than any sexy southern drawl.
Thanks for reading!