Not by the Hair of Our Chinny-chin Chins

Cheek Law Offices - Not by the Hair of Our Chinny-chin Chins

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As hard as I tried, I couldn't stop staring at the long, black hair growing out of the chin of the female clerk scanning my groceries. One, lone hair growing on her otherwise hair-free face.

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I was inescapable she wasn't growing it there on purpose. In fact, I was inescapable she didn't know it was there. Her eyebrows were perfectly plucked, her make-up impeccably applied and the space between her upper lip and nose had nary a hint of peach fuzz. This was a woman who obviously took time to coif. She whether missed it or that little-bugger grew on her way to work.

This, as most females will tell you, is a woman's worst nightmare: A rogue hair that sprouts between your last view in the mirror and your office.

Unfortunately, hair doesn't covering just on our chins. It can surprise us on our cheeks, our foreheads and sometimes on our necks. It grows like gang-busters above our lip.

I know there's probably a very good healing presume why this happens to women and why when the rest of our hair is thinning, hair grows so thick and swiftly in places where it isn't welcomed.

As if aging isn't hard enough. None of us after oh, the age of 18, are immune.

What the heck is a woman to do? Elizabeth and Cindy keep tweezers in their car.

"Sometimes I can't see it until I get in the car," Cindy says. It's fantastic how the light reflects on those defiant strands. My very blond sister-in-law, Linda was tweezerless in her car when she noticed her first black chin hair. Trying to tug it out with her fingernails only made it curl. That made her panic and pull out a bottle of hair spray, squirt some of her finger and slick the hair down until she could get home to pluck it.

And yes, gentlemen, this is something women talk about.

Like the women in my book club. At one our meetings, Maggie shared that while her feet were securely fastened in stirrups and her gynecologist was busy conducting her each year exam, he said to her, "I can get rid of that mustache for you."

Too stunned to ask which mustache he might be referring to, Maggie finally croaked, "Oh?" He told her he was now doing laser hair extraction and that she was a perfect candidate. She didn't ask how he would know that about her sitting where he was, but she did make an appointment.

At book club, she walked colse to the room showing off her hairless lip as the rest of us ooh'ed and ahh'ed and began to tell our own bad dream hair stories.

One member, who asked to remain nameless, had an old boyfriend point out a chin hair to her. She was so embarrassed she ended the relationship. Peg thinks she wandered colse to for days with a long hair popping out right above her left eyebrow before she finally caught it in her rearview mirror.

"I went straight through every friend I had seen the past incorporate of days and wondered why no one had told me," Peg lamented. straight through the grocery store, the dentist"s office, a party at one of her daughter's school. Dozens of citizen had seen her. She compared the humiliation of that to getting the back of her dress caught in her underpants on the way out of the restroom. At that point, someone admitted she had noticed it.

"No Way!" Peg screeched.

"I noticed it too," other friend croaked.

Most of us wouldn't hesitate to point out spinach in a stranger's teeth or a tag sticking out of a friend's shirt. Why are we so bashful about hair?

After that, we promised each other, no matter what, we'd point out visible, stray hair. We also paired up and vowed we'd pluck one another's chins if one of us were ever in a vegetative state. We decided lying in a bed, hooked to machines wouldn't be half as bad as being caught with hair on our chins.

My friend, Sue has a theory. Since hairs regularly pop up in the same place, we get used to checking that place every morning and again, when we get in our cars. What throws us, says Sue, is when hair decides to emerge in a brand, new place. Sue of course, has light hair and says she can go a few days without checking.

We dark-haired girls hate her.

But light-haired, dark-haired and no-haired girls' all of us need to stick together. We need a universal signal. So, here's a suggestion: When you spot someone with a rogue hair, silently point to your own chin with your index finger. That way they'll know.

I'd recommend men could take part in this but when I asked my husband if he'd be willing to do this for me when the time came, he cringed, as if to say, "Please, please, please don't make me do that."

So much for better or for worse.

Jesse referred to his second-wife's lone-hair as "Bertha." (No wonder that marriage didn't work out.) When I queried one of my male friends what he'd call a singular hair growing out of his wife's chin, he replied, "Gross?"

I think this better remain a chick thing.

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