Under my chin there is a half eraser sized area that will not grow facial hair, hardly recognizable.
If you rub your finger over it, you can feel a smoother area of skin. When I was eight years old, my parents visited some friends. My sister and I were bored, so they sent us outside to play. In the backyard, we discovered a family of rabbits. Naturally, we tried to catch one to play with. Didn’t work. So, refusing to give up on my quest to catch a pet rabbit, I got the bright idea of building a catapult to launch rocks . . . the theory being that the unsuspecting rabbits would be knocked out with a falling missile from the sky. After many trials and tribulations, the weapon of war was built. Smooth stones, silently dubbed with names like ‘Peter’ and ‘Fuzzy’ were loaded. The eight-year-old wonder boy, in direct defiance of his mother’s wishes to leave the furry creatures alone, leaped onto the catapult . . . Miss. More stones . . . Miss again. That’s OK. Edison didn’t invent the electric lightbulb on his first try. He burnt down a railway carriage first. The catapult was tweaked to perfection. Another stone named ‘Cottontail’ loaded. I leaped . . . HIT! It hit! It hit me in the chin and broke blood. My sister ran inside to get my parents, who were, by the way, not amused, and fixed me up. Along with a stern warning to never do something that stupid again. “After all,” she said. “What if that had been your eye?”
And that is why I have under my chin a half eraser sized area that will not grow facial hair.