Kimra Traynor Herb

Side
Streets
by
Kimra Traynor Herb
IPS Features

A whisker in church

The first time I felt it, I was in church. Just sitting there, absently stroking my chin as I was probably faking interest in a sermon that didn't exactly have me at the edge of my seat. All I know is this: it is NOT good news when you feel something sharpish and pointyish and LONGISH growing out of your chin.

It is especially not good news when you make this discovery not home alone with the trusty tweezers handy for hair removal; but in a public forum like church. I HAD A WHISKER! At this point, I couldn't be certain that indeed this was a whisker growing out of my formerly downy chin, but what else could it be?

I fervently hoped that I had a splinter lodged in my chin (okay, so I PROBABLY would have felt that before church) or that a carpet fiber had gotten lodged on my face.

I couldn't get myself to the car fast enough after church. I flipped down that car visor mirror and yeah, baby, there it was; in its infinite horror and ugliness- a whisker.
But wait, there's more information about my road to decrepity. The whisker was WHITE! This was not a happy discovery, I'll tell ya that. White-white. A white whisker was growing out of my chin. I was turning into Santa Claus. Oh woe's with me! I tried in vain to pull that sucker out of my face. The entire trip to the restaurant, I tugged and the beginnings of my Santa beard just kept slipping through my fingers. So yes, I had to go to LUNCH with my newly discovered white whisker.

Not that it could be a secret. After all, I had just attended church with my glorious beard beginning and I am sure that bright white whisker was seen by one and all. At lunch I revealed my terrible secret to my family and friends. "Don't worry," my friend Kathy said, "if you pull it out, it will grow right back. Not," she hastened to add, "that I have every experienced anything like that personally, but that's what I hear." She went on to gleefully remind me of her lucky genetic legacy which included very little body hair so she really didn't have to fear the Santa beard in her immediate future.

Happy news for her. Meanwhile, I couldn't keep my fingers off that guy. How hideous and deformed was I? From the feel of things at my fingertips; fairly hideous and very deformed. I was a freak of nature.
And it would grow back. That was what Kathy had told me and what I knew in my heart of hearts to be true. So when I got home and pulled the whisker out of my chin, it was not with a happy heart. Because I knew that when I least expected it- it was coming back.

Would it come back THICKER and WHITER than before? I remember when I was young and begging my mom to let me shave my legs for the first time. "If you shave them;" she warned, "the hair will grow back thicker and more coarse than before." Yeegads, would the same hold true for WHISKER HAIR?!!!

I was now frightened for my very last scrap of vanity. Forget wrinkles and gray hairs- I had bigger fish to fry and they were in the form of my giant beard which I just knew was lurking a few days to the future! I would have to spend the kids' grocery money on full facial waxes and beard trimmers guaranteed to give that close comfortable shave you've come to expect; the children would be starving as I tried in vain to keep my beard at bay!

Curses! I always knew that growing older wouldn't be a big ole piece of birthday cake, but frail bones, gray hair and wrinkles I was expecting. A BEARD on my face I was most certainly NOT expecting!!!!! Alert the press- the youth of today need to know NOW that this could happen to them! Young nubile girls with smooth faces need to have an inkling that one day they too could up and sprout a beard; just like that- the moment they least expect it.

I am keeping a close watch on my chin for the return of my Santa whisker. I am expecting it any day now, and if my mom was right, this time it will probably be double wide and extra snowy white. I am frightened beyond imagination to see it; but on the other hand, I want to be sure that I am the one to see it first, and that my discovery does not come while sitting in a very public forum. I may not be able to stop this Santa beard from growing on my chin; but armed with my tweezers I am going to do my very best to make sure that my hubby never has to get a stubble burn from kissing my bearded face.