jane

You Have A Pimple

It all starts with, “You have a pimple.”  The grooming process.  I wake up.  I may gently stroke Wifesy’s arm and her eyes open.  Then she says, “You have a pimple.”  And if I don’t spring out of bed immediately to get it, she gets it herself.  Wifesy loves doing this.  It’s a compulsion.  If I don’t let her do it, she will slowly go banana crackers.

 

I’m fascinated by how romantic partners groom one another.  To me, it’s the closest evidence that we truly are ape descendants.  I may not walk on my knuckles (at least not regularly), but I will grab that stray eyelash off Wifesy’s face.

 

I will also remove the eye snot from my Frenchie.  I do this ritualistically, every morning.  I mean she doesn’t have fingers, so if I don’t remove it, the dog will sit there all day, drowning in a river of eye boogers.  I can not deal with this.  It fecks with my familial feng shui.  So, we have a morning ritual, especially when she has full loaves of eye snot collecting on her doggie head.  I get down to her level, I use a wet paper towel and I pull the eye snot away from her orbs.  My frenchie is so used to this that she sits calmly at the ready every time.  I’m even more gratified if I can get her eye snot out of the actual eye itself.  If I can pull the end of an eye snot strand from the corner of her eye and then a mile’s worth of it comes out like a never ending scarf pulled out of a magician’s hat, well, when that happens I sometimes feel like I’ve scored a gold star for the whole feckin’ day.  It’s fantastic.

 

I can’t even imagine the grooming you must get used to when you have kids.  A female friend of mine with a little boy was telling me she hates sh*t and snot, but she’s practically rolled in it when it comes to her own kid.  There’s not a crevice on that boy that she hasn’t worked a piece of poo or snot out of.  Now, that’s love.

 

When it comes to my relationship, Wifesy is the bigger groomer.  She picks at zits and blackheads and chin hairs.  She loves it.  And she will go after these blemishes on my otherwise serene canvass, relentlessly.  I’ve read that in the gorilla kingdom, grooming is a sign of relationship satisfaction and relaxation.  I’m not sure it relaxes me.  When Wifesy goes after a zit, I brace myself for the agony.  Thankfully, I’m not very zity or hairy.  I have that Irish skin, which borders on hairless like a mole-rat.  When Wifesy is hot after a zit, I bound out of bed and take care of it in the mirror myself because I’m always going to be more forgiving than she.  Perhaps, that’s because I’m attached to my own nerve endings and Wifesy is only attached to accomplishing the procedure.

 

 

I groom Wifesy, but it’s more of a stray eyelashes kind of thing, which fall out as if she has alopecia of the eyelashes only.  But, then she somehow spontaneously re-grows them because there they are again the next day – mocking me.

 

Chin hairs are the anti-christ of femininity.  They really are.  They are something one develops in their 30’s as a woman right along with self confidence.  Again, I have very few (thank god), but I have them nonetheless.  And when they grow in, mine feel more wispy like a walrus hair as opposed to what I picture a Frida Kahlo chin hair to be – brillo-ish and defiant.  Mine are more limp and compliant.  They are hard to spot, you need a bright, interrogation light, and rigid tweezers.  Chin hairs make me want to throw myself off the roof of my ego.  When I feel one, I rub it back and forth like an OCD patient plays with a light switch, manically and often, until I can get to a tweezers -toot suite- and remove the b*tch.  Once I do, the release that washes over me is akin to having the air rush back into your lungs after a very heavy object is removed from your chest.  Sometimes, I believe, removing my chin hairs is the sole activity that keeps me in the land of the civilized.  The day I hesitate in removing them, is the day I should go off into the woods and live alone in that treehouse as I’ve always imagined.  I picture myself doing it with a “feck you world” on my breath and a full goatee on my face.  It’s the shame and the beauty myth that will finally drive me there.  I am so obsessed with chin hair removal that I sometimes fantasize about hiring a very short man (someone who reaches my chin level) with very good eyesight to follow me around and solely pluck my chin hairs.  A friend suggested I call the chin-hair-removal man, “Harold.”  And I have to agree.  Harold just feels right.  Aside from my Harold fantasies, I’ve heard you can get a reiki masseuse who will put on rubber gloves and go up your nasal passages, somehow, to massage your sinuses.  I have a lot of allergy / sinus issues and if I could have those little sacks massaged and squeezed (yes, I know what that sounds like…) I would do it in a heartbeat.

 

“If only I had a Harold…”

 

Grooming is both horrifying and awesome as an experience.  And it is one that has to be done by the right people.  For example, if I was ever groomed by my waiter, I’d immediately sign myself into some sort of mental institution after attempting to wrap myself in a cloak of invisibility.  But, with your family, it feels different.  It is nice to know, as you age, that someone gives a sh*t as to what you look like.  It’s nice to know that someone will always say, “No, baby, you can’t leave the house just yet.  You’re wearing your underwear outside of your pants and you have a zit on your nose the size of New Hampshire.  Let me get that for you because I love you.”

 

There is comfort in that.

 

What about you?  Do you pick the sh*t out of your clan?  Tell me how…gross me out…I’m so ready for it.  Pick, pick, pluck, pluck, yum, yum.  Love, love.

 

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Photo credits:  gorillasandjane, gorillasgrooming, frida

29 thoughts on “You Have A Pimple

  1. My grandmother made us pluck her hairs – practically until the day she died. My grandfather had us squeeze the space between where his nose meets his cheek to get the pus ? out. I’m obsessive about food in my teeth and have no shame asking a complete stranger if there’s spinach or lettuce remaining after lunch! Gross enough! And I have 3 grandkids under 3 so plenty of body fluids.

    1. i love that she kept that up until the day she died. i will do the same or you’ll find me in that treehouse i spoke of… lol. i hear you. i’m obsessive about food in the teeth and smells. i’m always asking those closest to me, ‘do i smell?’ and they’re always like, ‘why do you ask that, you never smell?’ and i’m thinking that’s why i never smell ’cause i’m always asking…it’s a vicious cycle! ahhhh. xox, sm

  2. One pesky hair on my top lip returns… black and stiff like wire. Drives me nuts and hurts like hell on extraction. Same spot, month after month. Maybe some zapping is in order…

    1. these hairs ALWAYS seem to be in the same spot!!! it’s uncanny! i feel like one small dot on my chin is saying, ‘we wish we were on a man’… it grows like a weed. i kill it, it comes back. on and on. infuriating!

  3. Hubby doesn’t like it when I get all touchy on his face. The only thing I do for him is, when he’s done shaving his head, I clean up the part in the back that he missed. I have the same feelings you do about chin hairs. I get obsessed. Why didn’t I inherit the naked mole rat Irish thing like you did? I’m Irish and I would be Frida Kahlo if it weren’t for a damn fine set of tweezers.

    1. yeah, the hair thing is weird isn’t it? wifesy is a touch hairer. she would kill me for saying that. so, let’s pretend i didn’t. i attribute it to the portuguese thing, but who in the feck knows. i’ve always wanted to shave someone’s head…fun. oh wait, you’re doing the wiping thing after? i’ve always thought all men with some hairloss should just shave their heads. i don’t know why more don’t just do it…makes no sense…xo, sm

      1. That’s exactly why he shaves it, just don’t tell him I shared the balding tidbit with you. It’s like he has Don Johnson scruff on his head, ya know like in the Miami Vice days. I shave the back of his neck, make sure the hairline’s not all wonky. It’s the least I can do for him putting up with me for 20 years.

  4. I think it must be related to the phenomenon where we don’t find our own smells (even the noxious gaseous ones!) as revolting as they are to others. It’s almost as if our kids and lovers and family are covered by the same grooming impulse. And – as you say – motivated by love – very sweet!

  5. That’s love. I’ll juice my wife’s zits if for some reason she cannot (much as I’d help with any private functions were she disabled), but for me it will NEVER be a compulsion.

  6. I don’t get chin hairs, but I do have one hair that grows out of my neck and looks like an extension cord and sticks straight out like it could be plugged into an electrical outlet. I could be a robot.

  7. Hilarious!!!! Growing up my sister used to make pop the pimples on her back (she was 16 years older than me). It’s not a compulsion for me, but I will do it. Dealing with my own is definitely a compulsion though!

    LOL!

  8. I wish I had no comment to make on this one, but alas, I am Italian, and 40, so I have this one covered. This is my bit of wisdom you should use to feel empathy for old Italian women…those bearded ladies you see and think, “my god woman! why don’t you pluck that?!” I realized one morning when I was in the bathroom with my new, cute, nevertheless trifocal glasses on, that I had about 200 times more chin hair than I thought and I f’in couldn’t see it because the bastards appeared right around the time my eyesight went to sh*#. If I lean into a mirror really close, my face starts to look like the writing which I cannot read without my glasses! I only wear my glass as work, but now, I have an extra pair of old lady reading glasses hidden in my bathroom just for chin (and stash) hair viewing. My Wifesy hasn’t figured this out yet, I don’t think. Thank your Irish stars, SM.

  9. Mrs. Mee did my ear hair for me again this evening.
    When we first got together that was one thing that really surprised me: one evening while we were watching a film she just said “Hold still” and pulled out a small pair of scissors and just did it… no asking, prompting, or anything.
    I think that’s when I knew I’d found the perfect Mrs. Mee at last. :)

  10. I pretty compulsively pick at my Loving Husband’s pimples and clogged pores. Then I make him ‘do my back,’ which involves popping all the pimples and potential pimples that have developed since the last time I made him do it. He hates it, but he does it because he loves me. Heart <3. The whole thing was made less painful when we got a torture kit — one of those pimple popping gadgets, only with lots of different size heads. It's faboo. Also, I pick the eye boogers out of my cats' eyes, and there's the whole baby thing. I've picked his nose for him. Yum.

  11. I fail to understand the purpose of chin hairs. Why are they there and what do they want from us?? I don’t really groom Mr. Weebles aside from wiping his face if he has schmutz on it. And he’s not big on grooming as a couples activity so we usually just keep to ourselves. But in other relationships I went on search & destroy missions for zits.

  12. Ear hair, hubby is constantly attending to this. Chin air? What the h*ll and why does this happen? Is it an increase in testosterone? Do we all morph into androgynous beings eventually? I watch my puppies — how they groom and lick their parts, any parts, at any time with no shame. Maybe we humans should begin that. They seem pretty happy most of the time.

    Funny and good luck with those eyelashes, pimples, eye goop and chin hairs. That’s the first time I’ve ever put all four of those in a sentence.

    You inspire me. :).

  13. If I had to take care of someone else’s zits I think I’d vomit. Just cutting hubby’s ear hairs makes me gag. Guess I’m not the grooming type. ;-P

  14. Dammit Mum your timing was atrocious, or mine was for thinking I could eat a nice bowl of lentil soup while catching up on… dog goobers and chin hairs and zits!

    On the general subject of grooming though I’m not sure where I stand any more. The nappies and runny noses are far behind me now and I think I’m happy to leave them there, at least until the insanity of grandparenting comes along. Until then comfy clothes and the minimum of personal hygiene are the orders of the day ;)

  15. I am with you on this one! I am going to resolve the facial hair permanently soon though, plucking and waxing is simply to much and the older I get the more it hurts. Just wait though, you hit a certain age and suddenly it is stray hairs, wrinkles and pimples…OH, and hot flashes. The world is a cruel place for women.

    As for grooming, I do think it is a love thing. I would never ‘groom’ a stranger or even a semi-close friend. But family, husband, children, parent or even sibling (at least the ones I like) and pets all open season.

  16. Thank god I wasn’t eating when I read the part about removing eye snot from your dog. I do clean out the crust that forms in the corners of my kitties’ eyes, but Hubby doesn’t groom me. Most likely because he doesn’t notice those things. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve asked, “How long have I had this smudge of mascara on my cheek?” at a party. Hubby’s response: What smudge? Hubby is creeped out by a lot of things that don’t bother me. Like using the toilet in front of someone – specifically me. Why it is he can whip it out in men’s room in front of a bunch of dudes he doesn’t know, but can’t pee in front of me is bewildering. But I respect his boundaries…and close the door when I pee.

  17. I seriously want to throw up, but I think it’s because it’s “that time” of the month and for some reason I’m typing with my Northface fleece on and sweating my ass off and I hate my husband because he’s sitting next to me and just yawned too loudly.

    But ANYWAY, chin hair. Hate it. I pluck it relentlessly, even the little wispy blonde ones that you can’t see. Can’t stand any type of nose infraction, so much so that I’ll tell a stranger if he/she has a big, fat boog hanging out. It’s a matter of courtesy and I’d really want that same stranger to clue me in too.

    I also like to pluck the hair the grows out of my husband’s ears. But now when he’s yawning too loudly and I’m on the rag.

  18. i spend alot of time with my little dog when it comes to grooming,,,because for some unknown reason he wont let anyone else do ti…he doesnt have patience but with me he is like a soft little stuff toy wont move.. just love him :)

  19. I love that you call them ‘eye boogers.’ I was beginning to think I was the only one. Oddly, it comes up in conversation with my wife and I every once in a while. Her mother would say it much more poetically by saying “there’s sleep in your eyes still.” She’s not a fan of me pointing out “eye boogies” so I was starting to think that it was a phrase my dad made up. You’ll never know the embarrassment when you’re a kid and you find out you’re father has set you up for ridicule by referring to farts as “fanny burps.” I assume your time in UK has also taught you that fanny over there means something totally different there than here. So that’s another one that doesn’t get the pass with an Irish wifesy!

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