[m i a o w] the cat

There are sometimes incidents that give you a short sharp telescopic glance into your life about thirty years down the track. (Providing that you don’t slide under a bus in the meantime.)

The huge mirrored doors in my study have an unreasonable amount of unforgiving daylight at most times of the day. All the better to pluck recalcitrant eyebrows, and bemoan the eyebags in. I looked in it today (it draws me to it) and saw what I thought was a black dot on the side of my face. On closer examination I would have screeched in, not exactly horror, but more like I’d just been hit over the head by the sight at the end of that forward looking telescope, but I am trying to stay Zen to make PartyPie a Zen baby that never cries, and so I just whimpered softly. It was a BLACK HAIR. And it’s not far from a BLACK HAIR to a WHISKER.

Before this happened (and I’m not joking) I laid there in bed this morning, having no reason to get out, and gently poked M in the head.
“What’s it like having hair growing out of your face?”
“Annoying.”
“Oh.”
“And don’t bother to say it. I know I’m starting to look like a bear.”
“OK. Do you want porridge for breakfast?”

So I saw the WHISKER and I saw down the telescope to the time when I’m about sixty million years old, and the whisker will be one inch long, hanging out of my face, begging for it’s own stying product, and I won’t be able to see it because my laser-ed eyesight will by then have stopped working. People around me will be too embarrassed to say anything because they obviously should have mentioned it several weeks previously and now it’s apparent they’ve all been looking at it and then having to quickly look elsewhere. I will be WHISKER WOMAN, and be forced to choose between:
a) examining my own face with a magnifying glass to see what it’s really like;
b) resign self to being WHISKERY and decide to cope;
or
c) do what M’s mother did and ask everyone in her inner circle to, for god’s sake, tell her when a whisker appeared so it could be attacked and killed without notice.

In reference to Point B, a week or two ago I purchased petrol from a lushly bearded woman who seemed perfectly at home with her fully fertile facial follicles, so this is not without precedent.

BROWSE / IN TIMELINE
« The luck of the vague
» Hull 2 - About face!

BROWSE / IN Musings
« Wagons Away!
» Please send the healing vibe!

COMMENTS / 3 COMMENTS

eeeeeeeeewwwwwwww!!!!

Dylan typed this on Aug 06 07 at 9:23 am

Join the club Beth…I have a few black hairs that sprout out of my chin…I’ll do you a deal….you tell me when they are visible and I will keep a watch out for your whisker!

Rachael typed this on Aug 06 07 at 2:23 pm