Last week I saw a Facebook meme that essentially said that since autumn has arrived I don’t have to shave my legs until next spring. That made me wonder what else I could dispense with at this time of year. Underwear? Eyeglasses? Makeup? None of the aforementioned? I couldn’t think of a single thing. And I’ll continue shaving my legs all year long.
Yes, I’m an overachiever. I have shaved my legs every single day of the year regardless of season from the time I was 11 years old. I shaved them on the days I gave birth. I shaved them after my lumpectomy. I shaved them after my hysterectomy. TMI? Too bad. If I were running for public office this would be my slogan:
VOTE FOR ME, I’M LEG HAIR FREE.
I don’t care if other women choose to let their hair grow all winter long. That’s a personal choice. I don’t shave for Studly’s benefit; quite honestly he probably wouldn’t notice if I grew a cashmere sweater on my thighs. I just can’t stand to sleep with myself if there’s any stubble at all on my legs.
When I become old and feeble I hope I have the money to hire a person to shave my legs on a daily basis. While they’re at it, they should also make sure my mustache is under control. And when I die, before I’m cremated, I want someone to take on these critical tasks. I can’t meet St. Peter with hairy legs. Is anyone writing this down? It’s important.
Peace, People!
Praying for Eyebrowz 
I always took care of my Grandmas lip hair. I knew it was very important to her. When she died, I did it for her the last time. Wouldn’t trust anyone with that.
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Oh! That is the sweetest thing! I can’t imagine finding anyone who’ll do that with me.
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Neither do I… My daughter lives far away, and who else will bother? My mustache will catch fire in crematorium all right.
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Ha! Same here, I suppose.
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