My tweezers and I? We are best friends. Best. Friends.
I wish I were kidding about this statement.
Alas, it is true.
It’s kind of a hairy story.
You knew I was going there, right?
Apparently, God saw fit to endow me lots of opportunities to give my tweezers a workout. I have become very skilled at using those little suckers. Even in the car. Not while driving, of course. Although, I wonder if I could put that on a resume?
- Adept at manipulating miniscule tools for emergency hair removal situations under high velocities
That sounds so official-like, doesn’t it?
Anyhoo… one of my greatest fears is being stuck in a place that doesn’t have either a 10x mirror, a 5x mirror, or… a mirror.
No worries, I don’t love myself that much. I do, however, love knowing whether I’ve got a plucker that needs to go before going out into public. (Sidebar: friends don’t let friends go out in public with a Granny length chin hair poking out. Can I get an Amen? I mean, when we’re all 96 and start mistaking our toothbrush for our hairbrush, we can let that slide. Until then…)
Truth be told, nothing strikes terror in my heart quicker than being in front of a mirror, while already in public, and discovering a surprise hair. Or 3. MERCY! My heart gets to palpitating and I get the sweats.
Add being caught in that situation without my best friend? My mouth just went dry…
It’s happened often enough, though, that I’ve developed an action plan. I now stow my best friend in every possible location I can think of. Purse? Check. Car? Check. Random kitchen drawer? Check. Upstairs, downstairs, and basement? Check, check, and… you just never know.
However, I also have a group of 4 flesh-and-blood best friends who are spread over these United States. We’ve made a pact that if I ever become incapacitated for some reason, they will take turns coming to my bedside, on a rotating basis. To pluck.
Yes, being best friends with me is just. that. exciting.
Now you know the true definition of TMI, folks. I can’t even apologize, you see, because I’m all about The Sharing.
And since the likelihood of more unsightly hairs cropping up seems to increase with my advanced maternal age, I do believe my tweezers and I? We really will be best friends forever.
So, to recap – I have hairs to spare. My best friends deserve a medal. And, If you ever come to visit and reach into a drawer for a spoon, but instead pull out a pair of tweezers, you’ll understand why.
Just hand em’ over and we’ll be sure to be B.F.F’s in no time.