I had felt it there for weeks. It seemed to be growing longer, but since it was under my chin, it was hard for me to see. I figured it was one of those blond hairs that I can feel but no one else can see. Otherwise, wouldn’t someone have mentioned it to me?
Like, perhaps the woman who waxed my lip last week. Or, the woman who gave me a facial over the spa weekend I took with a friend. Or, maybe my friend, herself. Friends don’t let friends grow unsightly facial hair. My husband, at least should have said something, although he has the excuse of being a man and so accustomed to considering facial hair par for the course.
And, then, searching in the mirror for another hair that had sprung up overnight on the more visible front of my chin, I had a sighting. And that phantom hair was over an inch long, black, and curly. Even my husband should have had an idea that this was not acceptable.
On the bright side, it was finally long enough for me to pinpoint its location visually, making it subject to the mercy of my tweezers.
Either I am getting old or my pregnancy hormones have a miserable sense of humor.