We all got what we wanted: a white Christmas Eve. But Christmas Eve morning in my house started out with a different kind of white. Nope, not that white, fluffy stuff that graciously flies down from the heavens like a ballerina executing a series of pirouettes and landing in perfect formation on the window sills (a la any Christmas clothing catalog). The white I got was a white hair. Nope, not on my head (those started in my 20s) but on one of my eyebrows--the left to be specific. How does that even happen? And when did it happen? And why would it happen on Christmas Eve? The tragedy!

It came without a warning or an "excuse me, but I need to tightly wedge myself on your brow (and in a location where I will make it stubbornly difficult for you to get me out) to ruin your Christmas Eve and to make you look a little older." Nothing gracious about having one white eyebrow hair when the "tuft" is still brown. So I did what anyone in my predicament (on Christmas Eve) would do. I yanked it out before it ruined my Christmas Eve, and BEFORE I turned into Ebenezer Scrooge, who witnessed the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come with Two White Eyebrows. I think Dickens just turned in his grave.

And I graciously filled its place with my faithful Elizabeth Arden eyebrow pencil. Hey, when you feel good about yourself, everyone knows it and wants to be around you. No one wants to be around someone who talks about her white eyebrow hair all night. Confidence is contagious--without a white eyebrow hair.

Hope you had a very, Merry Christmas. Look forward to sharing some of my family gifts (shared office gifts in a previous post) with you.

Best,

H.