Descended from a long line of hirsute French women, I was excited to find a great home waxing kit right in the supermarket the other day. Of course, there were six different boxes to choose from. So I shooed away the boys and settled in to read labels. I made my choice and went on with the shopping.

As nice as it is to go to a salon and have Eva take care of this issue, I was excited by the convenience and prospect of privacy. I carefully read the directions and followed them. Gary was compassionate enough to come yank the strips.

I am recovering slowly. I look like a Spider Monkey went rabid all over my face. I made my next appointment with Eva and threw the box away.