War

For the first 28 years of my life, there was peace. Since then, there has been constant conflict and warfare. I’m speaking, of course, about my nose hairs.

Until then, they were all well behaved and stayed in their proper place. Then this random rogue hair, the John Brown of my nose hairs if you will, rebelled against the nose hair order and started poking out. I could not make it stay where it belonged, so I was forced to trim it, and when I did, I was astonished to find that it was an inch, an inch and a half long. I have no idea how it reached that length without my noticing, but it had, and was so long it could not stay inside even if I tried to curl it around the inside of the nostril a time, times, and half a time.

That was the start of the insurrection; after that, other hairs of astounding length would periodically protrude and require trimming. It was like that for a couple years; bothersome, but manageable. But for the past year, even shorter hairs have been unruly and sticking out. So that my nose hairs now require frequent attention.

It’s not as traumatic or annoying as ear hairs I’m sure, but it’s still a hassle. In any case, forgive me if, from time to time, you see a little protruding hair. It’s a war. And I’m losing.