“Mommy! Look!”

I glanced over as I slid the chocolate breakfast muffins into the oven. She had a wad of chocolate sprinkles stuck to her upper lip and chin. 

“Ohhhhhh…. dear. What a mess.” I closed the oven door and quickly ripped a paper towel off the roll, handing it to her. “Why don’t you wipe your face down? But hold over the counter so it doesn’t end up on the floor…”

She made no move to comply.

“Guess who I am,” she giggled.

“Daddy?” I guessed.

She shook her head.

“A pirate?” I tried again.

Again, she shook her head no.

“Mommy,” she rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated with me. “I’m a grandmother!”

The frightening thing? She is right. Grandma has whiskers. My genetic destiny, right there. Each year, there are new ones to tweeze regularly. I am still only at the tip of the iceberg, though. A lot of long whiskers lie dormant, ready to crop up in my future.

At least hair removal products are getting better, right?

And then I thought, WAIT! Why do I feel pressure like this? Why? Because society tells me I should not have hair, except on my head, and as we all know, society is a bunch of bastards.

Well screw that.

So in honor of “No Shave November”, I am going to use this opportunity to mount a campaign for whisker acceptance. Whisker acceptance no matter the sex. 

But first? I need to check the mirror…

(I will be camping for a few days. Forgive any lack of posts or for not reading your blogs. The Enchanted Forest may have fairies but the WiFi is pretty darn spotty.)


106 thoughts on “Stubble

  1. That’s what razors are for. There’s no law that says a woman can’t shave her chin hairs.

    On a more positive note, just before my mother died at the age of 91, she mentioned to me that all her body hair had stopped growing several years earlier so she no longer needed to shave her legs, pits or chin. I guess there are some advantages to advanced old age.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You know the ones I hate the most – the blonde ones – the long blonde hairs that get longer by the second and then horrors of horrors you see the long hair on your chin, proud as can be IN THE REAR VIEW MIRROR on the way to SOMEWHERE! Not a tweezer in sight! Those ones. I hate those ones. Camping – must be warm where you are! c

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I bought a magnifying mirror last month.
    A recent visitor to our home thought I had a white cat hair on my cheek. I DID NOT. And that’s in addition to the weird black one that comes out of my neck and the weird red one that’s in the center of my forehead.
    Deep inside, I am a calico cat.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. I currently have one whisker. Or “hard hair” as I like to call it, when speaking with other ladies πŸ˜‰ My sweet calls it “whiskey” and thoroughly enjoys pulling it and gasping at its length! I prefer to think of it as a witch hair, rather than an aging thing. So do my occasional white eyebrow hairs!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I have a few white eyebrow hairs…I tackle them with a vengeance.

    I also have a few of the dreaded chin hairs, the white ones are harder to see. Sometimes I have too aggressive trying to dig them out with the tweezers, and then that doesn’t turn out well.

    Mother Nature can be cruel. I have these unwanted white hairs in strange places. Today I also have a zit emerging on my face that rivals anything a teenager could produce. These things shouldn’t be coexisting on my face.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I am so very thankful that my grandma hormones, or lack there of, has rendered me on the opposite side of the whisker camp. Armpit hair virtually gone…only one small area on my calves grows any hair anymore… and other, shall we say ‘private areas’ are verging on resembling a 13 year old body. I have never been a very hairy female anyway, and I suspect there are things that are rather wonky with this whole moving into older age situation, but I have no intention of complaining to my physician that I want something to fix this issue…just as long as the hair stays put on my head πŸ™‚
    Have a wonderful excursion to the forest.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. This had me giggling at work! Not to make fun of your facial hair pain but because I have a single stray hair that insists on growing out of a small, colorless mole near the side of my mouth. Whenever I feel that poking through I try to grasp it with my fingernails and pull it (I’m usually at work, no tweezers). More often than not I have to wait till I get home though. And no one else can see it because it’s white and I always pull it before it gets longer than an eight of an inch. But it still irks me. Now the real problem I’ve found lately with my advancing years is the dang nose hair! I see it getting longer in my mirror and my brain flashes immediately to this scene from Evan Almighty: πŸ˜€

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Oh yes! We call those “chinny hairs”. My daughter dubbed it and of course, she never told me I had any until we were sitting at a restaurant where I couldn’t do anything about it but be self- conscious. They must have grown in on the drive to the restaurant every time we ate out because every time we ate out, I had chinny hairs!

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I will join your whisker fellowship. Women seem to get whiskers and men get hair in their ears and noses. I have the perfect solution. Every morning I put on my anti-acne sulphur solution on my face and neck and shave the whiskers off. This doesn’t cause any irritation and it’s cheap. Enjoy the forest – you could bring a razor or just live free. When the zombie apocalypse comes we will be fighting for hair removal products and who cares about food?

    Liked by 1 person

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  12. I’m all in favour of whisker acceptance, sporting a permanent 3 day grey-white stubble. πŸ™‚
    Now in Japan women shave their faces (Wide-eyed emoticon) according to several reliable sources.
    (Including Ruth Ozeki’s Tale for the time being in which I am currently engulfed)
    (Anybody who’s finished the book pliz NOT a word)
    PS. Your daughter is very creative. and observant.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. My hair is dark brown. I bleached my facial hair for some time, then gave up and started shaving, just like my mother before me. The compensation is, with age, the hair on my legs stopped growing and doesn’t need it. I shave my underarms once a week. At least I never went bald. πŸ™‚ — Suzanne J.

    Liked by 1 person

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