UDH

Whenever Paul takes the car out for an extended period, he does reasonable things, like check the air pressure and oil  He also makes sure there is enough gas.

Me? I make sure that my tweezers are in the glove compartment, right where they belong. This, I've learned, is crucial.

If you are reading this, and you are a natural blond or redhead, I want you to know two things:
1) I hate you, just a little.
2) I only hate you because you don't know the horrors of Unnecessary Dark Hairs (henceforth referred to as UDH).

It started around my late twenties. I started to see hair sprouting from odd places. Dark hairs. Occasionally, curly. And no, this is not an oversharing tale of puberty, a la, "Are you there God? It's me, Nancy." The hairs I'm referring to were GROWING OUT OF MY FACE.

I know! The shame! The horror! I noticed my first UDH on a long road trip. Paul was driving, and I had read my magazines. We were talked out. There was nothing to do but pull down the mirror visor and check myself out.

As I scanned my face, I saw it. It was coarse, it was black, and it was growing right out of my chin. Proud and defiant, the offending hair was a black lighthouse in my sea of white flesh. I gasped, and wondered:

1) How long had I walked around with this Billy Goat scruff?
2) And, oh dear God, how many people saw it?
3) And WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS to TELL ME THESE THINGS?

I attempted to pull it out with my fingertips, but this action only caused it to curl in a horrifying fashion. I now had a curly dark hair growing out of my face. There was only one solution: subterfuge.

When we arrived at our destination, I spent the remainder of the evening with my hand on my chin, looking like Rodin's The Thinker. This looked stupid, and resulted in a zit on my chin the next day. You know, next to the big black hair. Throughout the night, I kept thinking, "I am growing a beard, I am growing a beard, OMG I am growing a beard."

Lest you be concerned that this indicates a possible disorder, let me assure you that I've been checked out. I take my thyroid medicine and am in good health. Yet, despite my clean bill, the occasional errant hair still makes its ungodly appearance.

Thus, I have learned to always travel with tweezers. I've learned that despite diligent checking in the safety and privacy of my bathroom, these UDHs are both sneaky and tenacious. I must be forever vigilant, and catch them in well-lit places, where they are unable to hide. Places like...cars.

So, if you are driving around Southern Maryland, and you pull up next to a green Subuaru, do not be surprised to see me scanning my chin in the mirror, tweezers at the ready. I do not pluck and drive, but, if the light is red, it's game time. My tweezers and I will defeat the UDHs.

And please, as a friend, do your civic duty and inform me if a UDH has reared its ugly head. I will do the same for you, and we will make this world a better-groomed place. One red light at a time.