Ummmm . . . I need a favor. . . .

So, I'm fairly certain that my sister thinks I'm nuts.

Yes, I'm pretty sure of it.

You see, in case the whole "living on this earth with me for the past 38 years" hasn't been enough to prove to her that I'm nuts, the "Million Dollar ideas", the "tapping Starbucks", and the "Talking to Strangers" certainly has done it. But, just when she might think I am getting my act together . . . I do something to support that I'm not.

That's what happened this week. You see, it all started with another one of those "random thinking moments", which frankly, are starting to get a little annoying. This one started after a particular difficult morning and make-up application before work on Monday. You see, I have that damn mirror. You know that mirror . . . the one that blows up your face, like, 1,000,000 X larger than it really is. (Which really . . . why I need a mirror that magnifies my face THIS BIG is just beyond me.) Anyway, Monday morning I decided to flip to the GIANORMOUS side and take a good look at my face.

AUGH.

Seriously. I don't know what I was expecting.

SO, after tweezing and plucking and pinching and taping (don't ask) . . . I thought I had corrected . . . at least without a physician and anesthesia . . . as much of the imperfections the dear Lord above had given me over the weekend. (Because, you see, I just did this SAME PROCESS last week.)

Anyway . . . that was that and I was on my way to work. NO harm done. Life was good. The birds were singing. The sun was shining. The sky was blue. I was singing along to my GLEE soundtrack and having a happy ride when I happened to look up in the rear view mirror of my car . . . and catch some HORRIFIC hair growing out of my chin, waving back at me.

Now, seriously. This is what I don't understand. How could I possibly BLOW UP MY FACE 1,000,000 X's the size it is . . . but MISS a hair on my chin???? How, Dear Lord, does that happen?

So, I started thinking (as I attempted to pull the hair from my chin with my fingers. Because, you know, I can do it, right? And no, that man in the truck looking at me at the stop light DOESN'T understand what I am doing because he CAN walk around with a hair on his chin and no one will look at him like a carnival show.)

Sorry . . . I digress. This is where my sister comes into the story. The next opportunity I have with my sister, I need to have a conversation with her. You see, I need to know that she has my back (or, my chin, to be exact.) So, Wednesday morning as she is sitting at my kitchen table, I ever so gently approach the subject.

"I need a favor," I say.

"OK, what is it?" she answers. Because, you know, she's used to me needing favors.

"If I am ever in a coma . . . I need to know that you will make sure that they tweeze my chin so my kids don't see me with a hairy chin," I tell her.

"You're crazy," she says, therefore confirming my suspicion afterall.

"Seriously, I need to know that you've got my back and you'll make sure someone plucks my chin, if I'm ever in a coma." I'm really stressing this point to her now. You see, I've thought about this. I need to know if she's IN or if she's OUT. Because, if she's OUT, I have to find someone who will be IN.

"Ok. I'll make sure you don't have hair on your chin," she tells me.

And there you have it. My sister thinks I'm nuts. And you know, I'm ok with that. Because I know that part of me is a little crazy. But that's what makes me me. And I'm pretty grateful I have her. Because she'll take care of me always . . . even in a coma. And it's good to know that someone has your back, or in this case, your chin, when you need them.

And now that I've shared my secret with all of you . . . don't be too scared if I tell you "I need a favor." Chances are, it won't be as crazy as this one. Or . . . may maybe it will. ; )