You can pick your nose and you can pick your friends, but you cant pick your friend's nose hairs; your brother's on the other hand that's a different story. Buddy-boy, I know you won't read this, but thanks for pre-approving my telling it:) His actual words being; "I won't read it, so whatever." My brother and I are very similar, though he thinks I am some sort of Golden Child, which is a lot of pressure, cuz I don't like to disappoint, and being the golden child, I am waiting for Eddie Murphy and the "I-ee-i-i-I want the knife". If you see us together, you can tell we're related. We laugh at our own jokes, we laugh before we've even told a joke. We're awesome. You know, we're awesome because we say so. It's a family thing.
Now, Buddy-boy is a tradesman. He works all day with wood and paint and hammers. He breathes in dirt and dust and indignation. He's supposed to wear a mask, but chooses not to. And I think it's for the same reason as I don't like wearing them, they make talking hard. Talking- well, ranting, that's another a family thing. How would the world survive without hearing what we've got to say- luckily, you'll never know, cuz we won't shut up.*insert knowing head nod. So, no mask means- his natural filter- his nose holes, are working OT. (It's unpaid OT as they are contracted under special Ontario Trades apprenticeship program) That being said- I think you can understand where I'm going with this... His nostrils are brimming with rogues- it's like an upside down vase with fuzzy stems poking out. It's amazing.
When he arrived at my house, looming over me, all I could see was nose hair. I was deaf to his words, in my mind what he was saying was: "Hey, sis, you should pluck this. I want you to get rid of them. Please, you're my only hope" What he was actually saying was he's falling in love, which is scary for him but I know it's really wicked! So, before I missed any other important information I stopped him. "Can I get those for you?" Pointing to his schnoze. "Pretty please? You'll look so much, well, less hairy. When your nose hairs start migrating to beard hairs... it's time to take them out." His answer? A resounding "NO!" suddenly Hubby chimes in, "You'd better just let her do it. She won't stop until they're gone". I turn to Hubby smiling, he gets me, he really gets me:) Finally, Buddy-boy agrees. I leap from my seat and reach for the tweezers (which there's a pair in every room and my purse) and a kleenex. Going straight to work, worried he'll change his mind. Buddy-boy tearing up and laughing at the same time. He knows that beauty is pain, just ask his 27 tattoos or piercings and mohawk. Having pulled 6 hairs- one of which I am pretty sure was attached to his brain, he stops me.
"That's good." he says with the matching suppression gesture.
"No, there's only 2 more." I whine,
"No, it's good." Recognizing the tone of his voice as the one that he typically uses before the Green light (green light means all systems Go! No holding back), I restrain myself.
I know that too much of a good thing can be painful, like those Big Gulp slushies no one can ever finish. Having nearly completed my mission, I am nearly satisfied that I will be sending him out into the City like the awesome dude he says he is (and actually is most days). I think for X-mas, I will get him an industrial face hole trimmer, or I'll just invite him over for a spa day with his fav Golden girl, which would actually be like a gift for both of us:)
Now, Buddy-boy is a tradesman. He works all day with wood and paint and hammers. He breathes in dirt and dust and indignation. He's supposed to wear a mask, but chooses not to. And I think it's for the same reason as I don't like wearing them, they make talking hard. Talking- well, ranting, that's another a family thing. How would the world survive without hearing what we've got to say- luckily, you'll never know, cuz we won't shut up.*insert knowing head nod. So, no mask means- his natural filter- his nose holes, are working OT. (It's unpaid OT as they are contracted under special Ontario Trades apprenticeship program) That being said- I think you can understand where I'm going with this... His nostrils are brimming with rogues- it's like an upside down vase with fuzzy stems poking out. It's amazing.
When he arrived at my house, looming over me, all I could see was nose hair. I was deaf to his words, in my mind what he was saying was: "Hey, sis, you should pluck this. I want you to get rid of them. Please, you're my only hope" What he was actually saying was he's falling in love, which is scary for him but I know it's really wicked! So, before I missed any other important information I stopped him. "Can I get those for you?" Pointing to his schnoze. "Pretty please? You'll look so much, well, less hairy. When your nose hairs start migrating to beard hairs... it's time to take them out." His answer? A resounding "NO!" suddenly Hubby chimes in, "You'd better just let her do it. She won't stop until they're gone". I turn to Hubby smiling, he gets me, he really gets me:) Finally, Buddy-boy agrees. I leap from my seat and reach for the tweezers (which there's a pair in every room and my purse) and a kleenex. Going straight to work, worried he'll change his mind. Buddy-boy tearing up and laughing at the same time. He knows that beauty is pain, just ask his 27 tattoos or piercings and mohawk. Having pulled 6 hairs- one of which I am pretty sure was attached to his brain, he stops me.
"That's good." he says with the matching suppression gesture.
"No, there's only 2 more." I whine,
"No, it's good." Recognizing the tone of his voice as the one that he typically uses before the Green light (green light means all systems Go! No holding back), I restrain myself.
I know that too much of a good thing can be painful, like those Big Gulp slushies no one can ever finish. Having nearly completed my mission, I am nearly satisfied that I will be sending him out into the City like the awesome dude he says he is (and actually is most days). I think for X-mas, I will get him an industrial face hole trimmer, or I'll just invite him over for a spa day with his fav Golden girl, which would actually be like a gift for both of us:)
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