When I was a child, I remember watching my Grandma never getting dressed until she "put her eyebrows on." She had very little eyebrow hair.
And my mom use to pluck her chin hairs and sigh heavily as though wishing one day it would all end, but knowing it wouldn't.
My Grandmother never grew leg hair. I didn't get her genes. I got my Dad's. His hairy legs and his blackish coloured hair.
When I was a teenager I was driving a little boy to school for a friend. The sun was shining through the windshield, and we were smiling at each other.
Then he looked at me and said, "How come you have a mustache?"
When I was working in television as a producer, we needed a segment with a new on-air host.
Now, I was currently growing out my eyebrows. Which means, my last experience at a beauty parlor was a 20-minute grueling session of hearing the wax eyebrow-artist say "omigod" and "wow" over 100 times as she tried to groom my eyebrows. Those words by were followed by her bringing over other hair stylists because "You've got to see her eyebrows. They are poker straight". Then she used the scissors--yes, scissors-- on my eyebrows!!!
(Ok, they were small eyebrow-sized scissors. But still.)
So needless to say, I was growing them out and avoiding getting them re-done.
At work, we decided that I should do the new 2 minute segment. In the meeting with my team I said, "Thanks. That's great."
Then a friend piped up, "But wax your eyebrows before you tape anything, ok?"
My other friend, "Defintely."
The only man in the room squinted his eyes and studied my eyebrows. And let out a slow, "yeahhhh. Do that."
Well, I have found a good wax lady now. She's my best friend for $17 every six weeks.
But lately I've decided to come up with a new solution.
A revolution, if you will...Join me, friends.
We could change the world with this, could we not?