I had some extra time yesterday morning so after showering, I plopped down in front of my super magnified bathroom mirror and began plucking. I started with my eyebrows, badly in need of sculpting, then surveyed the rest of my face only to become up close and personal with…yep, the disgusting chin hair.
As much as I hate to admit it, I have chin hair. I believe most women my age also have chin hairs, but the subject is taboo, unspoken among women, and I’m not sure why. Is it because these pesky protrusions are yet another sign on the ever-growing menopause casualty list? That time in life when the old estrogen diminishes, the increased testosterone steps up to the plate and your body is no longer familiar to you in any way shape or fashion. Perhaps the idea of those creepy hairs is simply, revolting.
I am sure we have all been in a situation with a very elderly woman and, no matter how attractive or engaging she might be, if she has chin hairs, they become front and center in your line of vision. They bobble around when she speaks. They seem longer and more obtrusive when she tilts her head, and the distraction is too much to endure. None of us wants to become “that old woman,” so the chin hair topic isn’t discussed among women of any age.
It was then, sitting in front of my mirror, at that very chin hair moment, I knew I had to take care of this disturbing, disgusting issue before I let another week, day, hour pass. I called Brooke and started our conversation with, “I have a very serious and important favor to ask you and I need you to be totally honest and remember this conversation when the time is right.” I’m quite sure Brooke was baffled by my request, wondering if my next words might be that I was terminal. “When I am too old to see my chin hairs and too shaky to pluck them away, I need you to promise me you will keep me well groomed.” There was a slight pause and a heavy sigh, as this might be much like asking a family member to cut your grandfather’s toenails. I fully expected my devoted daughter to give me the, “Not by the hair on your chinny-chin-chin” reply, however she did agree, though rather reluctantly, that when the time comes, she would indeed bring tweezers to the retirement facility and keep me from becoming “that old woman.”
I hung up satisfied, but my mind strayed a bit further into the future. Thoughts of being old and talking about that retirement facility, reminded me of a resolution I made about ten years ago. My mission, when the time is right, is to scope out the perfect retirement facility long before it is necessary for me to become a resident.
Having moved both my mother and Steve’s mom into nice retirement environments, I began to see that the right community of older seasoned folks could be much like living in a college dorm.
I mean, think about it…you have all these friends living under the same roof. All one needs to do is stroll down the hall, grab a friend or two and descend several floors where, there waiting for you (and your friends) is a delicious prepared meal. I prefer the dining room to be complete with linen covered tables, a menu selection, and a wait staff to service the needs of each of my lively and adorable friends. Not to be overlooked, there is great advantage to no clean-up after meals, what a treat to simply retire to the lovely living area to play bingo, bridge, mahjong, or a barrage of other old people senior games. Receiving high marks are those facilities that nightly host Happy Hour, coupled with live music flowing from a baby grand piano for the enjoyment of all.
This is dorm life without having to go to class! Better yet, it is like living on “The Love Boat" where Gopher, Dr. Adam, Isaac, Julie and Captain Stubing try their best to please all the residents. Only one little problem, I hate cruise ships. I can get over this however, if my new future home holds all the right amenities.
Finally, I have realized, that much like entering middle school, one must relocate to the retirement facility of choice sooner, rather than later. Why? The answer is very simple, it is far better to be in the A Group when making a transition of this degree. To be ushered into this top echelon, one must still be vivacious enough, endearing enough, and cognizant enough of one’s surroundings. It is helpful to still have the ability to drive one’s own car, know where to buy cutest clothes, and above all else…still have the skills necessary to self-extricate the plague of those despicable, chin hairs!
For what it’s worth,
Janet
Luke 12:7 “And he knows the number of hairs on your head! Never fear, you are far more valuable to him than a whole flock of sparrows.
P.S. Excuse me, Lord, I couldn’t resist!
