If I Burn It......It will Die

**Very Important Disclaimer**

If you happen to be married to me or are a male figure in any way related to me, you may want to skip this blog post. The following information could be harmful to your health, the mental kind.

Yesterday I went to the dermatologist. I adore my dermatologist....she is cute, personable, and has great skin - therefore I trust her.

I received the now familiar lecture about how poorly I follow my prescribed skin care routine (much like the lecture I get at the dentist for not flossing while bleeding all over that little napkin thing they have clipped on me.......and why in the world is that little suction thingy see through?? Watching the blood being sucked down the tube does not in any way help the already scarred reputation dentists have.......).

I inquired into a couple different procedures they advertise in their little pamphlet thing you get to read through while waiting for the doctor, but quickly wrote them off as being way too high maintenance, or just flat out too expensive.

I then took a deep breath, swallowed my pride, and inquired about laser treatments to deal with the horrendous condition called chin whiskers.

(Scot, I warned you at the beginning so don't blame me if some of the magic has disappeared because you are still reading this.)

The doctor quickly referred me to the lady who does that sort of thing in her office. After (very loudly) asking one of the nurses at the nurses station who was standing there with every employee known to man, to take me to the laser lady for info on CHIN WHISKERS.....geesh.....I was introduced to Hilda the laser lady.

I don't really know her name, but she was an older European woman and was every ounce a Hilda.

She asked me what the issue was.......I was surprised she didn't know after the booming announcement down by the nurses station. I told her about my "issue" and her first question was:

"What color iz de hair?"

Ummmmm......black. Does it really matter??

That was when she pulled out the dreaded round magnifying glass with 1,000,000 mega watts of light bulbs. One look and she said:

"Oh, yes......I see de problem."

You do?? Cuz I took full advantage of the natural light pouring into my car to pluck a few strays before coming face to hair follicle with that darn magnifying glass.

"Zou need to stop plucking for two weeks before I start ze treatment so ze hair follicles are intact."

"Then I will burn it and it will die."

Right there I knew that I needed a job where I could say that exact statement every day.

My mind was whirling with the news about no plucking for two weeks when she very suddenly pulled back her cute pink scrub top sleeve, thrust her armpit into my face and said:

"Zou see? No shaving for seven years!!"

After recovering from the sudden appearance of her pit in my face, I had to admit that it was an impressive sight!

I told her to sign me up and off we marched (high knees, straight back) to the desk to get me all signed up.

Two weeks from yesterday will be my first session with Hilda. Between now and then, I'm hoping my poor whisker follicles will be so afraid of their impending doom that they will have mercy on me and the imposed two week tweezer sabbatical.

Don't you just love being a woman??