This isn't necessarily a story I'd normally broadcast all over the Internet, but I found it quite funny and my pants are too tight today (likely cutting off bloodflow to my brain) so I'm going to share it.
Let me first start by putting us all on an equal plane: we all have body hair. In weird places. I think everyone has experienced the boobie creeper hair that pops up overnight. (A friend of mine once called it haireola.) And we've all caught the glint of a random chin whisker in the mirror. Some of you even have patches on your toes that require shaving.
So it should have been no surprise that I would end up with a tickler in my nasal cavity.
It all started Sunday when Mr. Wonderful and I went to a screening of Cars 2 and, in the darkness of the theater, I thought I had a cat hair up my nose. Every now and then, I'd breathe out and feel something up there. But I didn't seem to be able to whisk it away with the back of my hand.
Maybe it was the wine I had later in the night, but I stopped noticing the feeling and figured the stray fuzz/cat hair/phantom poker had disappeared.
Then I went to work Monday and felt it again. And I knew.
After work, I greeted Mr. W in the kitchen and told him I thought I had a monster nose hair growing in my right nostril. I don't think he signed up for that kind of talk when he married me, but he's stuck now.
I assembled my tools: a hand mirror, a pair of scissors and a set of tweezers. I sat down in the bright evening light by our sliding glass door and peeked up my nose.
Sure enough, there it was. A rogue hair growing from somewhere far up in the cavern down toward the entry hole. Tickling. Horrifying.
I'm happy to say that he is much shorter now. And that Mr. W has not served me divorce papers. Likely because of that one random sprout he gets on his earlobe sometimes.
Ah, the joys of getting older. I seriously do not even want to know what else lies ahead...