I have begun to see dark hairs on my upper lip. I don't know if they have always been there and people were kind enough not to mention it? Although, now that I think about it, I have always wondered why after getting my eyebrows waxed, my friend Ehuang would politely ask, "You want lip too?"
No I don't want my lip waxed because there isn't any hair there.
Okay so there is hair there ,but ever since high school I have had a phobia about waxing/bleaching my upper lip. You see, T and I met in high school and we knew a girl who had a very dark stash. Poor thing tried everything she could to make the hair less noticeable but all the bleaching made her upper lip hair very blond and she still looked like Groucho Marx.
Honestly, I very rarely think about it. I was very content with the few dark hairs I had, and I was determined to keep them there until absolutely necessary.
T, picked me up at my work yesterday and took me to lunch. On the way back from lunch I lean in to give him a kiss goodbye and he says, "Geez, I can feel your mustache!"
Hello absolutely necessary.
I knew it was time for my regular eyebrow waxing, so after work I went to the salon and signed in for a "eyebrow waxing" only. You know, to keep it low key. I lay on the table and I whisper to Ehuang, "I need my upper lip waxed too." She smiles with a, I have been telling you that for months smile, and proceeds with the waxing.
Eyebrows? No problem. Now I feel hot wax being slathered onto my upper lip. It burns. It burns really bad. She takes the cloth strip, presses it onto the hot wax/hair combo and then...RRRRRRIIIIP!
I swear it didn't hurt that bad giving birth to Kyle without an epidural.
The tears have now begun to fill my eyes, but I must remain brave. She begins to lather on the hot wax and press the cloth strip down. I do the only thing I know how to do when faced with horribly horrendous situations.
Dear Jesus... I know I haven't been the best.....RRRRIIIIIP.
It's over. My face is on fire and I look like I have been sucker punched. I have paid and I am getting ready to walk out the door when my phone rings. It's T and it's an emergency. We are out of pancake mix and I need to get some before I come home. Great, now I have to run into the store looking like I got stung by a bunch of bees.
In the end it was all worth it. The kids ate pancakes for dinner and my upper lip is smooth like butter. Not wanting T to be remiss of all the excitement, I run to give him a kiss to show off my new hair free upper lip. He gazes right into my eyes and says, "It's like kissing a woman again."
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