For those of you who know the 'joy' of ripping one's own body hair out at the roots via the means of a very sticky paste along the line of the hair removal product "Nads", I have a few words of advice:

1) No matter what, make sure you are fully dressed.

2) Do NOT attempt to apply the stuff to yourself if there happens to be a cat about.

Never ever try to depilate your chin when you step out of the shower if there is even the *remotest* chance a cat will drop by to say "g'day". Particularly if said cat happens to be not-to-bright, overly curious and exceptionally affectionate long haired cat who likes jumping up on the sink to give his Meowmie head bumps on her (somewhat hirsute) chin whenever she happens to be standing there. And absolutely not when said cat is so profoundly deaf as to be completely oblivious to the "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed at the top of one's lungs.

Suki didn't hear my screams of protest, and I wasn't quick enough to avoid the morning 'bump'. I could see what was coming, and although I still had an application stick full of sticky stuff I instinctively tried to push him away.

Talk about a sticky situation!

Suki and my chin are now detached from each other, but it wasn't pretty. I don't know who it was worse for. Suki lost a fair amount of fur, but he has so much to spare, you can't tell. To detach the caterwauling beast (oh, what an absolute apt word), I had to add water (thank goodness the stuff is entirely and quickly soluble and Suki, for some reason, doesn't mind the stuff) but he doesn't like being stuck anywhere and tried to pry himself loose from my chin by levering on my chest. With all his claws. After he and I split up (and that's what it felt like), I then had to get the application stick back. He liked this even less, and expressed his displeasure with her teeth and further cries of protest. The squirming made the mess worse, and of course managed to plaster my bare midriff with patches of white fluff stick down with green goo. Maybe I could have qualified for the Mrs Nude Santa 2008 calendar.

Perhaps I should have just cut it out, but did eventually manage to get the mess of shed fur and sticky green goo off him with more warm water and screams of protest. Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to be 'talking' to me anymore and is probably still hiding behind the filing cabinet (not that I blame him)

Myself, I have a very sore chin (with the hairs I was trying to remove still prudently there) and a chest that Br'er Rabbit would be proud of. My arm is just bruised, no punctures thankfully.

And I swear to Bast, Pickle just stood there and laughed silent pickle-headed laughs the whole way through.

I'm just going to grow a beard next time and to hell with it.

Copyright © Vicky Chapman
January 16, 2008