While gathered together with my family at the dinner table for our traditional Christmas Day dinner I glimpsed my mother gazing at me wonderingly.
I honestly thought she was going to uncharacteristically burst forth with a display of maternal emotion to gather me in her motherly arms while smothering me with love and exclamations of how profoundly grateful she is for me, her one and only daughter.
I smiled widely at her in anticipation.
And then, my mother extended a single finger to tenderly touch the side of my face before recoiling in horror and blurting out "Holy crap what is that? Are those SIDEBURNS?!!!?? You really need to take care of that, Fifi* because you look absolutely ridiculous like you're trying to channel Elvis or something."
Everyone seated at the table laughed. I felt really self-conscious and put my turtleneck shirt up over my face so that only my eyes remained unobscured.......like a Ninja Elvis.
It's obvious this blog should be renamed The Smiling Sideburn.
I'll look into that today.
*Fifi is my mom's nickname for me since the horrible home perm experiment that went tragically awry in the mid 80's
Something has been bothering me for the past couple years but I didn't have a place to share my startling discovery until now. And here's the part where I just blurt it out: PUBE DREADS! Medusa-Like Coochie Hair! Big Pubes Keep on Turnin' While My Eyes Just Keep On Burnin'! Ahem, anyway, I'm all for natural beauty and yes, every single solitary part of the feminine body is a gift from God. Whatever. However, one should probably consider making a date with Mr. Bic prior to cavorting about in the water in front of your homeschool group, fellow church members, and multitudes of children whose eye level unfortunately rests point blank on your impossibly furry thighs that resemble a stuffed Snuffleupagus. This sister wasn't just working a sort of poofy explosion-down-at-the-Tammy-Wynette-wig-factory pubic hair look, oh no. It was instead like a miraculous reincarnation of Bob Marley himself complete with delicate yet coarse tendrils of dark hair cascading down far, far, far and away beyond the inadequate perimeters afforded by the unflattering cut of her bathing suit. Oh Sister Sassy, that Hoo-Hoo Voodoo that you do! I get it, I'm sometimes guilty of woeful maintenance neglect myself but I can guarantee you this......ain't nobody gonna look at me in my swim suit and assume that my nether region is nicknamed "Jason Castro" or that it's costuming itself as a Brillo pad gone horribly awry. I own a brilliantly colored pair of rainbow board shorts that serves a dual function as a FUPA disguise system and a possible Gay Pride Parade Grand Marshall outfit should I ever be asked. I like to be prepared for any and all eventualities.
Now, go watch this hysterical clip from my favorite defunct British comedy sketch show. It'll make your pubic inferiority complex disappear like magic! CHING!
