I Blame My Father…

05. May 2016 funny 1
I Blame My Father…

I know what you must be thinking. However, I don’t have weird daddy issues. I don’t blame my father because he made me eat everything on my plate (although that did totally suck). I don’t even really blame him for making me drive a 1985 light blue Buick LeSabre in high school (although absolutely mortifying for a 16 year old).

My issue comes down to one single thing. A very unwanted long black hair that randomly appears on my neck (and even my chin) at the most inconvenient times.  Sometimes it even sprouts through a mole which makes it even more attractive.

Why do I blame my father you ask? Because his father’s family was Italian. And everyone knows that Italians are often hairier (or the more formal word “hirsute”) than the rest of the population.  (Side note: don’t Google “hairy Italians” or you may get something that you don’t want to see.)

Sometimes I am at a red light and I happen to glance in the miniature mirror in the car and there it is, The Evil Hair, waving at me in the sunlight like it’s taunting me. Sometimes, I go to scratch my chin, and good lord, there’s another inch long hair on my chin. My first thought that goes through my mind is “No, no, not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!” However, I’m not sure the Three Little Pigs were referring to middle-aged women that were dealing with unwanted hair when they said that.

Sometimes I feel like a cross between Elvis and the Bearded Lady with the long neck hairs (and sometimes sideburns) that appear suddenly with no warning.  My sweet husband came up to me one day and tried to pull something off my neck and then he said, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! It’s connected!” I think a part of me died that day from pure humiliation.

It’s not like I haven’t tried to get rid of them. I have performed an all-out assault, but these hairy Italian genes are just too strong to be squashed by lasers, wax strips, or hair removal cream.

So, while I appreciate most things about being part-Italian (my obvious love of food and drink), I am really less than thrilled about the ability to grow hair in odd places. For now, I guess I will just arm myself with pocket tweezers for the moment that I scan my neck in the small car mirror and see The Evil Hair lurking in the sunlight.

1 thought on “I Blame My Father…”

  • 1
    Dianne Dixon on May 6, 2016 Reply

    Great – and so funny! I love your style of writing!

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