There are advantages to getting older. I have to admit I have far more common sense now, on the cusp of 40 than I ever dreamed at 19. No offense to any young bloggers out there, I’m just saying that in my earlier days I was a complete dumbass. A size 6 dumbass, but a dumbass nonetheless.
My left leg is now a size 6. (Oh cruel fate!)
I don’t mind getting older for the most part. I whizzed by my 30th birthday without batting an eyelash. 32 bashed me over the head, however, as it occurred to me that if I had given birth at 16 instead of 26, and if my child had done the same…I was now officially old enough to be a Grandmother.
It took several whiskey and cokes to get me through my 32nd birthday.
Now here I am at 39–and counting–and actually appreciative of the wisdom I’ve gained over the years. I have no desire to be my 19 year old rebel without a clue self again, and I sure don’t miss the hangovers. What I do miss, and miss desperately, is a face without hag hairs.
I hear you whippersnappers snickering! You just wait your turn! It seems that nightly I sprout a hair or two on my CHIN for no particular reason except to drop my self esteem into the negative range.
I tweeze. I pluck. I’ve even waxed which let-me-tell-you is roughly akin to slapping hot road tar on your chin and grinding it off with a belt sander. The next morning, I find one or two offending follicles have produced plumage once more.
I’m 39. I wear glasses. What’s going to happen when I’m 80 and can’t see to pull them out? Do you think I’ll have to ask my hubby to do it? Good grief–I’ve been trying to hide this horrible truth from him!
Maybe I should let my man in on the secret before he’s old and faint of heart. Embrace my hag hairs now, before they get worse. If I just let them go, do you think he’ll notice? He is a man and therefore oblivious by nature. Over time, I could just work them into a snappy little hairdo, you know?
Maybe I can make this work after all.
Thank you..you are kind as as writer’s go, not too shabby yourself.
Here’s to age and wisdom and chin hairs
Best,
LK
Oh…please, God…no beard…unless, of course, it was a billy goat beard which I could stroke while deep in thought. That might be okay.
LOVE the title to your post! Hag Hairs…that’s funny! I haven’t developed any hag hairs–yet, but I HAVE got the worst case of arm flab (you know, the nasty, useless tricep muscle that hangs and flops around whenever you want to give an enthusiastic wave to someone). I hate it, but not enough to get my lazy self out of my computer chair and do some arm exercises.
I hit 30 and suddenly my eyelids were wrinkling. I hit 33 and can’t help but notice the arm flab. (I thought I was going to get lucky… darn it!)
Hag hairs… the moldy cherry on the big, stinky hormone sundae!
Im appreciate my rebel without a clue moment right about now.
even though i feel about 40….
I feel your pain. Life is cruel!
Oh yeah. It all goes to hell after 30. Hag hairs, age spots, can’t jump on the trampoline with the kids, sneeze, or cough too hard for fear of dribblin’ in yer britches. My dear sister and I have a pact regarding hag hairs. We are to pluck one another’s when we’re too old to realize we look like Yoda.
Shark, had I known you were going to put my picture on the web, I never would have sent it to you!!!! I know about hag hairs all too well <<>>
LK Thank you. That means a great deal coming from one of my favorite bloggers.
Colby,you can have mine. Henceforth I shall put my pluck-ees into a plastic baggie. When I have enough for your goatee, I’ll mail them to Georgia.
Kemi and Kween, I have turkey wattle arms too. (sigh)
Sarah, you’re just a baby. Enjoy! :0)
M23–Yoda. BAhahahahahaha!!!
Meg, I’m sorry. I think you’re confusing my photo with yours. You’re my age though, so maybe your eyes are going.
I guess I should feel grateful that I started going gray at 15… at the ripe old age of 37, my hag hairs are mostly gray too, and so if I neglect one or two now and again, they are difficult to see anyway! (See, you have to do all the old fart stuff all at once so it works together!
)