This is one of those TMI kind of posts, a post that when I was thirty-five, I had no clue I would dare write. Of course when I was thirty-five, I had no clue about the super yucko stuff that was going to happen to me in menopause. I also had no clue what a blog was. (I’m not sure anybody did, yet.)
That leads us to the subject of the post: CHIN HAIR.
I have always liked the story of “The Three Billy Goats Gruff.” I love the line, “Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin,” and as a little girl, I got a kick out of all that trip trapping over bridges. And who doesn’t get some kicks out of hating a big bad troll? (A REAL troll, not an Internet sort of bad person.)
But I didn’t know I would turn into a billy goat!
And the Big Bad Menopause Troll throws you the double whammy that after you get those long, fine hairs cascading off your chin, you can’t see them without a magnifying glass.
So that brings us to this post’s title: Does a Friend Tell a Friend She’s Got a Chin Hair?
This happened to me. I was at first mortified.
But on reflection, I was grateful.
So I say, “Yes.”
What do you say?
Photo above is Paul Galdone’s wonderful version of The Three Billy Goats Gruff.
Photo below shows some acceptable chin hairs, because this guy is a real and true billy goat, by the hairs of his chinny, chin, chin.
Read more posts at my blog Friend for the Ride