I turned sixty last year. I’m….let me count….one, fifteen….um…forty eight…yes…forty-eight days from my sixty-first birthday.
Things happen to a body when a person passes a certain age. One day we glance in the mirror on exiting the shower and we’re shocked to see that Picasso painted a picture on the mirror while we were showering.

Picasso
Then we realize it wasn’t Picasso, that is us in the mirror. Old us.
Things are no longer where they should be. Oh, they are in the general vicinity but not where they started. They have migrated south. Things that were small are large and things that were large are larger.
We’ve lost some things and gained others. A great example is our hair. We’ve lost some and gained some. It has migrated from our head to other places. Usually, places we would rather not have it.
I did not know that I would be the perfect candidate for the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey bearded lady position at age 61.
So, what do we do? We wax. Wax on, rip off. In the past, I have tried waxing my face at home. Usually, I end up with a huge hunk of something torn off that I was hoping to keep ( like my nose). So once a month when I get my regular massage and facial, I have my esthetician “get that shit off my face”.
Today it was eyebrows. For some reason when I hit a certain age my eyebrows decided to grow back toward my ears and up toward my hairline as well as fill in for a classic unibrow look. I had to check to make sure I hadn’t been bitten by a werewolf.
Today I made a big mistake. Instead of saying, “please get the strays,” I said, “can you shape them a little?”.
Big, big mistake. Huge. Until they grow back in I will look perpetually surprised.
Communication is very important when you are trusting someone to rip out your unwanted hair. If these ever grow back I’m going to outline the ones I want to keep in red sharpie marker before I have them waxed again and I’m going to write “just the strays please” on my forehead.
Until then, somebody should throw me a surprise party. Even if I know about it ahead of time, nobody will guess by the look on my face.

Not an actual picture of me. But close…
Darling, you are beautiful! (Read in Zsa Zsa Gabor voice-Dahling, you are bEEutIful!)
This re-reads with more laughs than the first time. It’s a tour de force!