You used to be just one stray, lone hair. But now you've multiplied, and have four or five friends that show up on occasion. I sometimes find myself rubbing my chin in search of those that need to be plucked, just like the Nana used to do. I always found it oh-so-charming when she did it...why should I be any different? And when I DO find one, I become so fixated on it that you needn't bother trying to carry on a conversation with me, because guess what? I'm not listening.
I do believe that I am in need of some sort of oldster-appropriate laser and/or wax hair removal procedure to save me from myself.