No one ever warned me that at 54 years of age I’d be shaving my hands and toes. Out of all the wonderful features my Father had…and he had many…I had to inherit his hirsute (adj. hairy from the latin hirsutus) knuckles and toes. Monkey toes that grows and grows and now sans hormones my hair has taken a life of its own. It’s standing up for itself (literally after I sleep it’s out of control) and it’s taking to the road…I won’t say I’m balding but I think any self-respecting man would recognize a “comb over” when he sees it. We girls call it a “pixie” that swirls over our heads…real life adventures.
No wonder they never tell young girls about labor and delivery or the furry future.
Thank God, because She also made sure I inherited my Mother’s sense of humor and priorities…Sorry Dad, that little Dresden Doll has been replaced by Queen Kong…and she’s in a bit of a mood. (Working without a net of hormones)
I don’t get it…if your body is supposed replace all your cells every 7 years, it looks like some old guy got in front of me in line and right now he’s probably looking all delicate and everything and I’m looking around for the Empire State Building!
And don’t get in front of me in line at the Dollar Store either…
Photograph Courtesy of Google source : Life