Pinch Punch first of the month and no returns

I'm not sure if this is what I am meant to be writing. But here I am. Writing. And here you are reading. So I guess one of us should do something. 

So what shall I write about ? Not covid, not the new new-normal, not the early onset of Christmas tree decorating. 

I am distracted by four sharp stubbly hairs that seem to have sprouted on my chin, intent on stopping me writing. 

How does that happen? 

How do I go to bed baby-faced and wake with a full beard and tash that nothing short of a Flymo will resolve.  

Am I destined to become a bearded lady overnight? 

Not that there is anything wrong with being a bearded lady if that is your choice but a little bit of notice might have been nice. 

I need my eyesight tested and I wonder how many stray beards are escaping my notice simply because I cant see them? 

I had a deal with a friend that should we become hairy old ladies then one of us would epilate the other, standing, ever on guard, with a pair of Primark tweezers. The only flaw in our plan, aside from it being 2020, is that now neither of us can see and we are both convinced we look fine.  

All this despite her sporting a rather fetching plaited goatee beneath her facemask. 

What we need is a younger plucker.

Is 4 too young to teach my grandson to wield a pair tweezers, do you think ?

I had considered teaching him to shout out if he noticed a stray hair on my chin, like an early warning system, but the time he would spend shouting would breach child labour laws. 

I'm also not sure about the social etiquette of teaching a small boy with a Glasgow accent to shout out 'Sprouter's' every time he sees a lady with a stubbly chin... might make a terrible scene at nursery. 

Anyway, enough of this. I am meant to be writing something and you are meant to be reading it, not faffing around with tweezers. 

Though I will just mention the benefits of a one sided fringe for hiding the eyebrow you cant quite see to pluck. One eyebrow is fine but the other is like some mad Picasso-gone-rouge and seems to have blended, werewolf style, with my hairline. 

So there you have it.  A picture of me as a writer. A bearded, lopsided eyebrowed, werewolf, lady writer. 

Lady, my arse. 

But this is creative writing, so its all right.