
Middle age is similar to puberty, at least in my experience. Strange new hairs keep emerging from my skin, only these ones are single very long white hairs in various places: my beard, my arm, my nostril, and most recently: among my eyelashes. It extended a full eighth of an inch past the normal eyelashes, bumping up against my sunglasses (I have now given up sunglasses).
During my last haircut the barber tried to pluck it and I almost squirmed out of the chair. I'm very squeamish about eye stuff. I could spend an hour in a coffin full of mealworms no problem, but show me a mascara commercial and I'll have to call in sick to work. The trust inherent in my marriage was proven when I held still and let Alexis trim my aberrant white eyelash. It grew back in a month.