Splitting Hairs

While at a party recently, Larry told a hilarious story about his newspaper delivery days of his youth.  On one of his early-morning deliveries, he came upon a man sitting on his porch, clipping the hairs in his nose.  In a gruff voice, the old gentleman warned Larry that he would someday have to do that, too.  Larry, the young lad, shuddered at the horror of having hair growing in places you didn't want it.  Now, like most men of a certain age, he's clipping hairs.  I recall when my mom started tweezing a few stray chin hairs.  Like Larry-the-boy, Keri-the-girl couldn't imagine having to tweeze chin hairs.  It just couldn't be.  Now, amazingly, I find my own stray hairs.  Such hair-raising realities are but another rite of passage, another gift of the years to join the gray hair, the bifocals and the wrinkles.  I'm armed with my tweezers, but grateful to have gotten this far in the journey.