Checking out my face in the mirror this morning, I was startled and alarmed to see a 1/4 inch long black hair sprouting from the side of my upper lip.
To my horror, I reached for my trusty tweezers, prepared to pluck it, get rid of the ugliness...like that's all I need. Black hairs growing out of my face, right where people can see them!
Well, people like me, probably one of the only people who looks at my face.
I stepped away from the mirror, heartbroken.
Yes, it had come to this. Hairs growing on my face where they didn't belong.
Any small hope I had possessed of a trace of the face I used to wear...gone.
Were there more? Was this the first of a plague of uglies that would guarantee old age and lack of face pride?
I did step back toward the mirror. After all, I am very nearsighted and a sink's distance away is a foot too much. Grasping that tweezer in my right hand, I leaned in to examine the gross hair.
And blew it away with my breath!
It proved to be an eyelash!