Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word




            Two things have driven my mid-life crises of the week. After much denial, deliberation and reluctant acceptance, I’ve decided I need more fiber in my life, and I need to get my eyebrows under control.

            I inherited my eyebrows from my father, who got them from his father, etc. They grow fast, long, thick, and gray. Seemingly overnight they sprout in all directions, giving me the appearance of Albert Enstein, minus the wild hair that lends him credibility and character.   And I have been hearing for years that health is “all about the fiber,” but have an aversion to even thinking about that subject, which I blame on ridiculous media campaigns.

            But, growing older, I can no longer fool myself about these two subjects. Once the denial faded, and I could make no more excuses, I decided to dedicate my day to righting these two wrongs. I donned my jogging gear and headed for Walgreens in search of some kind of fiber that didn’t carry the stereotypical name of Metamucil, and some hair tint for my eyebrows.

            The trouble began in the hair care aisle. After narrowing down my color choices to three, I read the label, which clearly stated that this product was NOT to be used on eyebrows or eyelashes. I could understand not using it on your eyelashes, but the warning was very strict—“To do so may cause blindness.” Well, that made me think twice. I put the box back down, and considered leaving that task to the professionals. But that seemed ridiculous. People used hair dye everyday. The salons charged 20 or more dollars for the three-minute procedure. I argued with myself for several minutes, torn between the warning and common sense. Then I saw the “Just for men” beard and mustache tint. It claimed to have a thick texture to prevent running, which would probably solve the problem of going blind due to the ammonia mix running into my eyes. It was only six dollars, so I threw it in my basket. What the heck? I might get brave, or it might sit in my bathroom cabinet for a year.

            I ventured into the fiber aisle. There were dozens of choices, all of them rather expensive. Not sure how committed I would be to my new fiber routine, I was reluctant to spend 18 dollars for a jar of something I may never actually use. Reading the labels was a little frightening, as I wasn’t at all sure what the end result would be—perhaps a glass a gelatinous mass that I would never be able to drink?  I finally decided on some nice, cheap, cinnamon and apple wafers made by Metamucil. That wouldn’t be so bad. In fact I could totally romanticize the experience by dipping my biscuits in the “Sleepytime” tea I’ve been drinking at night. Then I saw the warning. The warning of death on the box of biscuits.

            “CHOKING: Eating this product without enough liquid may cause choking. Eat in an upright position…If you experience chest pain, vomiting, or difficulty in swallowing or breathing seek immediate medical attention.”

            Really? From fiber wafers?

            I stood in a state of indecision for a really long time. Long enough for the not usually helpful sales associate to stop and ask if I needed help finding something.

            Then, just like the warning from “A Christmas Carol,” about shooting your eye out, I decided the warnings were ridiculous, and decided to ignore both of them.

            They were just trying to scare me.

            I took my purchases home, tinted my eyebrows, ate my wafers with my tea, and, thus far, have not gone blind nor died.

            But check back in the morning…

June 22, 2012 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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