Am I That Old?

Yesterday, right about the time we should have been leaving the house for church, I realized I hadn't fixed my hair or put on makeup yet (I had gotten sucked in to reading someone's blog).  I also still needed to wake up, change the diaper, wipe the snot, fix the hair and put the shoes on my toddler.  Yikes.  Decided the ponytail would have to do, and I slapped on some makeup--just the necessities.  Got Maya ready, and we jumped in the elevator to head down to the parking area.  We jump in the car, and as we're pulling out of our gate, I pull down the visor/mirror, just to make sure I stayed in the lines.  To my horror, what did I find?  MY FIRST BLACK CHIN HAIR!!!!  Now I know that chin hair is part of growing older.  I have observed women farther along in their journey than I plucking those little (insert bad word of choice here)'s out, but ME?  I AM TOO YOUNG TO HAVE BLACK CHIN HAIR!  So of course, something had to be done--I couldn't show up to church with a black chin hair AND a ponytail!  But try as I might, I pulled and pulled at that little (insert same bad word here) but it just would not budge!  It curled, it stuck out--it mocked me, people!  For some time now, Matt has been growing these amazing eyebrow hairs (that for some reason I have always called black georges (sorry if your name is george)).  They are black, usually, and grow about twice as long as his normal brow hair.  I think deep down, I felt superior, because I didn't have any defiant hair growing from my face as yet.  Well so much for superiority (not to mention being five years younger than him)!  I have now joined the ranks of the rogue hair growers.  I am officially old.  Shouldn't my life have more to show for my age than this?  This nasty chin hair?  It's Monday morning, and I'm off to find my tweezers . . .