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Oh, hairless me




There is one thing that's good about growing old as a woman.
If you are fair-skinned and fine-haired, you can virtually stop shaving.
I shave my legs once or twice a season and I'm good to go. I don't even own a razor most of the time.
I never have to worry about waxing or plucking, either. Even my eyebrows.
While I admit to being envious of beauties with thick luxurious hair, I now can take pleasure in the fact that these ravens have to spend hours on self-care. And when they get older, well, all I can say is "woof".
Thank you, God, for this magical gift.
I have not appreciated it before, but I'm loving it now.
Hair salute the rest of you.
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