Unfortunately, several things get put on hold during this “busy season,” not the least of which is the lawn. By the time I get to the garden center to buy fertilizer, Scott’s is already on Step Number 2. My dandelions are very appreciative of me skipping the pre-emergent weed control treatment.
Something else inevitably catches me by surprise. My eyebrows. Every year they get more and more John Houseman-ish. There they are—lapping over my glasses and pointing in every direction on the compass (especially the gray ones). Sometime around February I should remember to put pre-emergent on them.
The part that bothers me most is that I’ve just finished talking with literally hundreds of people during the tax season, more than a few of whom must have been marveling at the these hairy caterpillars while I was pointing out the nuances of their 1040s. Would two-inch-long eyebrows wrapped around the bridge of my glasses distract you?
I just don’t get where this comes from. I mean, I can get away with shaving every other day and, if you saw my chest from more than three feet away, you’d swear there wasn’t a hair on it. (Hair doesn’t grow on steel, I’ve always said.)
But these damned eyebrows… I go the barbershop and they bring out a specially trained assistant with a leather case filled with odd-looking tools to conquer my brow beasts. In between haircuts, I’ll pluck the wildest strays, but that hurts like hell. I don’t know how you women do it.
Speaking of things that shouldn’t be plucked, I’ve also started sprouting nose and ear hairs at a breakneck pace. While Mary is recovering prescriptions from the pharmacy, I find myself spending the entire time in the personal products aisle comparing hair trimming gadgets. I’m still debating the merits of rotary versus reciprocating heads.
All of this is taking more effort every year, so I’m on the lookout for a better way to manage the eyebrow problem. Perhaps a miniature version of the Flowbee would do the trick. Invented by Rick Hunts, the Flowbee was a hair cutting fad that combined an electric hair trimmer with a vacuum cleaner*.
Until Scott’s comes up with a Step 1½ and Rick Hunts perfects the Browbee, I’ll have to rely on the traditional methods for maintaining both my front yard and my facial lawn.
* As a side note, men attempting to invent things that incorporate vacuum cleaners have a very bad and painful track record. Just google the phrase “vacuum cleaner” followed by the anatomically correct name for a man’s reproductive organ and you’ll see what I mean.
Copyright 2009 Randy Hunt