Leave It To Beaver

As many of you know, I turned 36 in June. Not exactly old or young, just sorta lost in the in between. And I'm cool with my age. But, you can imagine my shock and dismay upon discovering, I have three gray hairs. This isn't so much a vanity thing. Everyone knows that I've been seen walking out of my house looking like this, (scroll to the picture) which clearly means I am by far the least vain of all carnie/lesbo looker-likers the world has ever known.

Many will say gray hair comes from stress. Sure I have my share, who doesn't?! Some say grays come with maturity. I have my moments of maturity, few and far between but they are there, sort of. But really, gray hair at this age? What the hell am I going to look like when I'm in my 60s or 70s?

These aren't your ordinary gray hairs either. They are longer and more coarse than any other hairs I've encountered. These are by all rights...guitar strings. Just like the Tom & Jerry episode where Jerry's uncle comes to town, singing Crambone, "Cain't play without a geetar strang!" which is my favorite next to the Mamãe eu quero episode where the crazy cats use Tom's whiskers as violin strings.

Okay, so I'm getting my train off the track. The reality is, I have not been entirely truthful with you guys. My grays are more like ukulele strings. Yes they are slightly shorter or smaller and maybe less popular than guitar or violin strings, because...oh God... they are pubes.

Who gets gray pubes? I mean, I know everyone does... eventually but at 36, really? Is my beaver under stress? Has my cooter gone off the deep end? Is my vag unstable? Is this the final meat curtain call? Would Miss Clairol's Loving Care really wash that gray right out of my hair? Or would it take something tougher like Dark and Lovely to fix my box? Or should I embrace these "hairs of knowledge" gracefully?

How can anything about a person be graceful when their pubes have teamed up against them?

Waxing professionals, (I know, just typing the word wax while talking about that area makes me cringe too) which are people who get paid to rip your pubes right out of your cooter are now offering designs. They have specialty items including hearts, stars, lightning bolts and now may I suggest the ukulele inspired by me and my aging beaver.

Is this even normal? And if it is, why hasn't anyone ever mentioned it before? Perhaps if I'd known sooner, I'd been less traumatized by their shimmery glow.

I tried getting a hint of sympathy from Mr. Lane but he was too busy laughing at what he now calls the Silver Fox Box.

Reason 8,974 why I don't like that man.

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Uncle Eddie and my sister Mary are both in the hospital. If you're the praying kind please send up a smoke signal for them.