Waxing

Last weekend, I told Jason that I needed to run a few errands and that I could go when the girls were napping...well, Piper was napping and Finn was in a good mood...so, off I went. I had to finish up the valentine's projects...which I don't want to talk about...and I decided that this would be a good time to go get my eyebrows waxed since we were going to a party the next night for one of Jason's business friends. And, I didn't want to feel shlumpy.

So, there was a line like there always is and there was a woman in the chair who was getting her upper lip waxed and then the waxer lady left her to let her wax her NOSE HAIRS.

An eternity later, the waxee says, "Oh, I forgot, I want you to do my eyebrows too." I'm pretty sure she could feel the fireball that I was launching at her from my glare in the chair across the room.

Finally, it was my turn, and I did my duty of sitting still while she ripped the stray hairs from my eyebrows. Why women do this, I will never understand.

I got home and asked Jason how my eyebrows looked and he said, "Oh, that's what you were doing. I thought you said you had to run errands."

And I was all like, are you kidding? I don't think the pain of waxing can be considered anything but an errand...it isn't like it is a spa treatment or something...and actually if he wanted me to just not wax anything or shave anything and let my body hair grow and grow so I look like a Yeddi, fine. Well, not fine, because really who likes to see clumps of deodorant in armpit hair?