This morning, I was in the shower all lathered up when I realized that I didn't have a razor in there with me.  Ugh!!!  I darted out, dripped my way over to the closet and felt around for a new package of razors.  I'd just gotten a new brand to try the last time I was in the store and as I stood in the middle of the bathroom floor with a sudsy puddle forming around me, I finally found them and got the package open.  I jumped back in and as I do with any new razor, I was gliding it across my leg ever so gingerly.

It wasn't too long into my shaving that I started to contemplate the many reasons why the Quattro razor might be named such.  Perhaps it's the number of stitches that I'd be needing when I got out of the shower.  Or perhaps that's how many units of blood the blood bank was going to have to locate for me in O positive. Whichever it was, I had those little nicks all over my legs.....you know those just above the ankle bone and then the ones on the back of your leg just above the heel....oh, and those on the back of the knee?  Those kinds of nicks bleed for "Quattro" days and "Quattro" nights before they finally clot.  I got out of the shower, hemoglobin streaming down both legs, tearing little bits of toilet paper to fit the wounds, when the thought occurred to me about how much time and energy we, women, spend beating back unwanted hair.       

It's not something we talk about a lot, but it's an unrelenting issue.  And something happens when you hit forty, ladies.  I'm not really sure what....I guess your estrogen just gives up and says, "You know what?  I'm done here. Today's my last day. I'm going to the house. Don't worry...You'll look great with a goatee".  And after that....it's like growing kudzu in a container garden. 

You, twenty somethings, with your smooth, baby butt chins.....just wait.  Your day's coming.  I, too, remember when the 25 year old me would see little, old ladies in the grocery store with their Fred Sanford beards and think......"haha...what the heck?"  Now, I just say, "Oh, that reminds me..I need to pick up some wax". 
  
My mother-in-law has this old school magnifying mirror sitting on her bathroom window sill.  I don't know what it is about her particular mirror.....the quality, the placement, or the lighting, but it has the magnification of the Hubble telescope.  You can see hairs coming three years before they arrive, so you really have to prepare yourself before you look into it.  It's not something you should enter into lightly, because it shocks any woman's system to look into a mirror and see her father looking back at her.  You get back there with that reflective instrument and a pair of tweezers on a sunny day and you're likely to be gone for a while.     

Anyway, I caught a glimpse of myself as I walked by it the last time I was there and decided to do a good once over.  You know how it is when you do that......you find the usual suspects and take care of those, but then you see that one hair that would make Si Robertson jealous and you're like, "holy cow....by the looks of that thing, it had to have been there since Clinton was in office."  Then you're thinking back to all the people you've sat close to at church, weddings, and funerals over the last few weeks....oh, and then the good friends who didn't tell you.  Wait 'til you see them!  

And waxing.  What man came up with that?  Any time a women's beauty kit comes with a tube of anesthetizing cream for when you're done, it had to have been a man's idea.  Some women have that beauty procedure done at the salon, but I'm of the DIY crowd.  I just zap that stuff in the microwave.  Slather it on while leaning over the bathroom sink.  Wait 30 seconds and wham....... pull thousands of hairs out by their roots at one time.  What's so hard about that?  Aaaaahhhh!!!!!  Forget the tube of topical cream.  It should come with general anesthesia.        

Ladies, we are worn down, but remain diligent in our fight to beat back the weeds.  We can only hope that one day, long, straggly chin hair and unibrows will become a fad for us, women, too. Wouldn't it be freeing if, like men, a few days of stubble on us was considered "sexy"?  "Oh Joni, you're looking good with those scruffy legs!  Go ahead, girl!"........"Sue, your chin is really filling out nicely!  I love that shade of lipstick with it!"........"Mary, your unibrow is gorgeous!  You've got to tell me how you got it to grow so fast!" 

Until then, ladies, we tweeze.