Not just what are you doing - what are you doing to yourself. Jules is alarmed. Horrified. Confused.
"Why are you pinching your face like that?"
I am plucking my eyebrows.
Maintaining well-groomed brows without the help of a professional is trickier than it sounds. One moment, you're a tweeze away from perfect arches; the next, you look like you might have gotten too close to your birthday cake. So I use a light touch. (Side note: Waxing is worse and I have a passport - the one I carried from 1999 to 2009 - to prove it.) But this morning, waiting for Jules to finish brushing his teeth so that I could go in for the final chomper sweep, I noticed that I was NOT in danger of overplucking. On the contrary, I was in perilously close to a faint unibrow.
But I'd never even considered that plucking your brows might seem kind of, well, barbaric. And I realized that if I'm going to do things like pluck my eyebrows when I tell my kids that they shouldn't pinch each other or bite their friends, I'm going to have to figure out a succinct and satisfying explanation for why people do things like rip their hairs out one by one with a pointy metal appliance. Obviously, I'm not there yet.
Today, I'm grateful for a new perspective made possible by Julian's fresh eyes.
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