It was recently brought to my attention that I have been sporting one wicked moustache and beard. I don’t know how this came to pass. I have a very fair complexion and most of the hair on my arms, legs and where ever else is mostly blond with a few brown sprinkled in. I never thought I’d be one of those women that you pass in the grocery store and spend the length of the cereal isle playing a guessing game as to what sex she REALLY is because no woman I’ve met looks as though she has pasted the hide of one of the Chipmunks on her her upper lip. After seeing Miss Scruffy I was nearly convinced that I was just being obsessive and was going to let it go entirely when Max crawled onto my lap, grabbed one of the long hairs dangling from my chin and tugged, giggled and said, “Mommy! You have hairy face like Daddy!” That sealed it, I needed a hair exorcism.
So I went to a place my girlfriend recommended to me to have my eye brows, upper lip and chin waxed. I have had my fair share of bikini waxing but never done anything on my face. It wasn’t as awful as I thought it would be, but I definitely wouldn’t do it as an extra curricular activity. As needed basis only. The woman that did it had a very thick Russian accent. She was wearing four inch stiletto heels and a very tight low cut and short black cocktail dress that was very appropriate for the third date when she planned to get laid but not so appropriate for 2pm in the afternoon with Kansas 90 degree heat and 80% humidity. When she bent over me her enormous pendulous breasts nearly smothered me while she was stripping the hair from my face. I had the sneaking suspicion that I was being groomed by a girlfriend of a Russian Mobster.
Now, so many things have gone so very far south since the kids were born. I never had a perfect body, but I had a nice shape. I now look like a turnip at first glance. My hair is constantly in a pony tail, not styled or fashionable. I look frumpy. I wear nursing bras instead of Victoria Secret Ultra Sexy. Crocs instead of heels. I feel like I keep noticing some new horrific loss of femininity each day. I only hope that the process is gradual so the shock doesn’t cause a mass amount of wrinkle lines that force me to run to the nearest Botox clinic.