A brief moment of satisfaction…

Few things in life are as satisfying for me as pulling out a big, black chin hair.  You know the type.  They’re black, coarse and extremely difficult to get with normal tweezers.  It drives you completely crazy.  It’s all you can think about.  You pick at your face in a desperate attempt to find it.  You feel it with your finger as you sit at your desk or lie in bed, but the moment you go to pull it, it mysteriously disappears.  Leaving you with your face pressed against the bathroom mirror while you sweat underneath the thousand-watt bulb you borrowed from the neighbor’s construction work lamp.

When you finally get ahold of the little bastard and pull it, its stubbornly fused root holds on as tight as if it were buried in microscopic concrete, layered deep under the skin.  So you only get part of the hair.  The rest remains poking out- just enough that you can feel it as you pass your finger over your chin.

So, you must wait agonizingly, tortuous days until you can attempt to pull it out again.  And if you get too overzealous and try too soon, you only end up setting yourself back as the hair will inevitably snap off again- leaving you with a prickly little stump that will drive you completely insane.  Concerned co-workers will stare as you run to and from the bathroom, flick on the light and jut your chin out to judge its length… then swear out loud when you know you can do nothing about it.

But if you can wait it out- victory shall be yours and in the right lighting, with the right tool and with just the right amount of torque, you’ll pull the offending whisker free of its cement clutches.  And if it’s a really good day, you’ll pull it from its ancient root, far beneath the derma.  Although you’ll emerge from the bathroom with a red chin and constricted pupils, a sigh of sweet success will pass across your lips.

Sadly, this excitement is not for long.

As your finger takes its victory lap around your chin, you feel a sudden stab.  Your mind reals, “What the hell?  Did I not get it? No!  It’s another damn hair!”  And thus it begins once more.

You walk back to the bathroom, defeat weighing heavy on your shoulders.  All the while you’re shaking your head and thinking it might be time for some electrolysis… before you turn into the bearded lady at the circus.


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Meghan Dwyer

Meghan K. Dwyer is an aspiring writer, misanthrope, cystic fibrosis advocate, wife and mother of four beautiful children. She lives in rural Western New York with her husband Chris and their four children Braeden, Kian, Kelan, and Ailey. She has a love of writing and in her spare time, enjoys a good book, sharing a glass of wine with friends or family and gardening. The name of her blog A Message of Mean from Meghan was inspired by an email containing that title, which was sent to her sister and friend. Her writing is full of sarcasm and truthful, yet at times, abrasive humor. Her blog is about sharing her thoughts of her day, confessions as a mother, and opinions about life in general as a kind of therapy. Meghan has written two romance novels in her Ellington Manor Series- a three book publication. When One Door Closes and Almost Forgotten are both available now on Amazon.com and Barns&Noble.com, as well as her other works, A Message of Mean from Meghan and newly published Confessions of a Bad Mom. She is currently working on Hoping for Happiness, the final book in the Ellington Manor Series.

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