Mrs Woog gets her face waxed!

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Isn’t life a bitch sometimes? Like when you are in your mid-40s and your body is OVAH having babies and so then it tries to turn you into a man. I mean, for Christ’s sake, we suffer and we suffer and we suffer through periods, getting pap smears and mammograms, just to make sure everything is as it should be and them BAM.

You wake up one day with a moustache and a beard. Why? I started doing a little research into hormones to try to work out whether that plays a part in it, but Dr. Google made my head spin. But it did suggest that us chicks in our 40’s have our hormone levels checked. So sure. JUST ADD THAT TO THE LIST! Jesus H Christ. Can you tell I might be a little hormonal as I write?

Anyway, I knew the situation was getting out of hand when Jack leant over in the car and stroked the side of my face and told me “Mum, you are growing a little beard!” Of course he was correct. I am not talking chin hairs, although that is going to be fun. I can join the gang of women that you see, when you pull up at the lights, peering into their rear vision mirror, tweezers in hand. I am talking about the fine, downy fluff that one acquires running from your ear lobe, across the bottom of your cheek and down to your jawline.

Vellus. That is its correct name. I am growing Vellus.

Jack continued to stare at my beard.

The next day, I called in to see Tina, my Vietnamese eyebrow “Artiste” so she could tame the things. As I lay down, I pointed out my vellus and asked her if I should thread or wax or WHAT THE FUCK SHOULD I DO TINA? And from there, things moved very rapidly. Before I had finished what I thought would be a personalised and thorough consultation, she had smeared hot wax from my ear to my chin. I was rather alarmed for you see, I do not court unnecessary pain. Before my panic could reach fever pitch…. RIP!

Holy sweet mother of all things! The pain… OH TINA THE PAIN! My eyes were pricked with tears. And then she started on the other side.

I started doing my anti-panic breathing, deep breath in. deep breath out…. in…out ┬áRIP!

JESUS WEPT!

I gingerly put my hands to my cheeks only to be met with what one could describe as a baby’s bum! My sideburns were now in congealed wax strips in the bin.

I handed Tina some cash, thanked her, and went on with my day, looking like I had been slapped very hard across both cheeks, and it took at least two hours for the stinging to subside.

Do you grow facial hair?

How do you deal with it?