It's a daily struggle to keep the hair at bay nowadays. The greyer and finer it becomes on my head, the more it makes a presence felt elsewhere. Luckily I have E as a grooming alarm, her eyes light up with a fevered passion when she notices an errant eyebrow hair that needs attention. Without her ministrations I'd end up looking more like Dennis Healey.
Salvador Dali wanted his spare moustaches back..
E plucks thick horrible colourless hairs nestled on my brow (good riddance). She also regards my nostrils with a proprietary sense of ownership - every little follicle is considered fair game for her and her tweezers.
Of this latter fact I'm grateful (eye watering discomfort aside). Every few days I also take myself to the bathroom mirror and am reminded of a hermit crab with by the nose which flares back at me. The pert little hooter of youth has been replaced with a black, cavernous pair of nostrils today, complete with nasal hair that waves back cheerfully..
Everything else seems to be working fine (the knees get little tender sometimes though). Still, I'm really starting to notice those minor changes in the way I look and feel. The facebook photos of former years portray a creamy looking, youthful me that's a world away from the slightly weathered 2011 vintage... and I can't help but marvel at the differences.
A.
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