Tweezers, wax, electric trimmer, electric razor, scissors. Tiresome.
I suppose I will know when I am old. I will no longer bother and go au natural and see what a forest can grow in my ears and how many spider legs can stick out from my nostrils.
I am reminded of the eighties when our elderly neighbour had a stroke. A few days later we visited her in hospital and aside from seeing her for the first time without makeup, he face was covered in sprouting hairs. Oh, the indignity of it.
This superfluous hair thing just seems to get worse as you get older. You've got a lot to look forward to kiddies. I'll just look forward to the day when I no longer care.