A Wandering Nomad with Hairy Knees

I'm a nocturnal nomad beginning every night at 2:30am. I roam my 1200 sq. feet of desert habitation looking for the Promise Land where my blue-eyed baby will actually go back to sleep and stay asleep. I finally decide to accept my sleepless fate at around 5am. Then I transform into a bear and roar and growl my way through the morning.

And I have hairy knees.

I made this discovery again yesterday when I looked down at my legs, and said, "Oh shoot!" It's a chronic problem, you see.

My sister Vinca pointed it out once a couple years ago on a visit to see me (last time she came she made me aware of my unruly eyebrows-that's the love only a big sister can dish out). We were driving somewhere, and she just happened to glance over at my legs.

"Hillary, you didn't shave. That's some hair on your knees."

"I shaved," I said rather sullenly. "I guess I just didn't get my knees very good."

The hair sticking up was a good couple centimeters long. I thought about putting band-aids over my knee caps to hide the hideous sight, but alas! none left in the first aid kit.

When I shave, if I don't really pay attention, my knees will laugh and high five each other when I get out of the shower. I have to really concentrate on pulling the razor very slowly and accurately over every little knob. I think they're just abnormally curvaceous knees, and it's not a good thing. I never hear men say, "I love my wife's hairy, curvaceous knees!" And that's a real shame.

Strangely, my husband has never mentioned it, so A. he either secretly thinks they're sexy or B. he figures if I haven't learned how to properly shave at this point, it's pretty much hopeless.

Which reminds me of the big toe problem. You know what I'm talking about-oh, yes you do, don't you? (If you're a man, you should, because you guys have tarantula toes, and that's no joke.) Some years ago I heard a couple of my aunts (names protected) discussing waxing and shaving their big toes. This was news to me! Could it be that this was one more thing we women must do to keep ourselves from looking like the ape-creatures men have so proudly embraced being? I checked the situation out first opportunity, and wouldn't you know? They were right! Another item on the beauty-maintenance list.

And I've got to do it, because my man will tease me if I don't. I mean, really, my husband will rub his foot against my leg at night to check if I've shaved! And then he makes a tut-tut noise, and I give him a good shove while he shakes with laughter under the covers. I have no idea how on earth he can tell with all that scruffy fur he's carrying around. But I get back at him by teasing him about his 10 long, very long, chest hairs. He figures he's adding one a year, and I've told him someday they'll be my old age pillow. Yes, the day will come when my nocturnal nomadic days will be a distant memory, and I'll cozy up to him with my hairy knees, fluffing his chest hairs just so, and have myself a good long sleep.