My Buddy, Kevin

Allow me to introduce you to Kevin.
We have been together for some time, Kevin and I. Specifically about 9 years. It was around my 31st birthday while plucking my eyebrows and checking for blemishes in my 15x magnification mirror that I spotted him. A jet black, pin straight hair jutting out of my chin. I was horrified. This happened to other people. My mother-in-law, or that scary lady at the post office, maybe, but not me. NO! I ripped it out, satisfied that it was a mistake, some weird phenomenon that would not be duplicated until I was at least 50. But a week later, there it was again. It was coarse as a wire brush. It was thick and stiff, but it was a hair, nonetheless. I could have towed a boat with it. I was driving when I spotted it again, so for the full day, all I could think was that every person I came in contact with saw this hair and wondered why I allowed it to grow, maybe felt pity for me, even. In my view, it was easily 6 feet long. I continually tried to pull it out with my fingers, but it wasn't happening. It would not budge. I became obsessed with it, and the first chance I got (I'd actually run to my mothers house to use her tweezer) I tore it from its comfy lair within my chin. Before long, however, I realized this would now be a lifelong battle. I purchased two extra Tweezerman Ultra tweezers, one for my pocketbook and one for my car. I would NEVER have a noticable chin hair again.
So it was inevitable that around that time, while waiting for my 11-year-old to get out of school, I sat in the parking lot and noticed that it was about to rear its ugly head again. I took out the car tweezer and began picking in earnest. Franky got into the car and looked at me with quizzical horror. "What are you doing?" He asked, mouth agape. "Shut up." I said through gritted teeth. "And tell nobody about this." He shook his head and played his video game as we finally drove away.
Less than a week later, though, we were driving home and he pointed at my chin. "Hey,"He said, finger nearly touching my chin. "Kevin is back."
"Kevin?" I asked. I looked up into the rearview mirror and saw that nasty hair again protruding out of my chin. I pulled over and again removed the hair. "Where did you get that name?" I asked him on the drive home.
"Well you know Kevin, in my class? He has a beard like yours." I thought about 11-year-old Kevin and, Frank was right, he had a Shaggy (from scooby doo) beard of 5 hairs. They were long-ish. This was a hilarious comparison, but I didn't want to encourage him by laughing. So I was forced to stifle my laughter all the way home. When we got home, Frank called his father to say we'd gotten home safely, and to tell him about his day. I walked into the room to hear Frank tell Bob, "Oh, she was plucking out her beard on the way home from school." I snatched the phone from him, "I DON'T have a BEARD!"
"Yes, you do, it looks just like Kevin's" Frank shrugged walking out of the room. I was being compared to a pubescent boy, and I wasn't liking it. Not. One. Bit.
As the years passed, most of my friends met Kevin, because he was a preoccuption for sometime. In fact, there was a time when, for reasons I will get into at another time, my tweezer time was limited. I could get away with long armpit hair or leg hair, but a flowing she-beard was OUT OF THE QUESTION. Therefore, I talked about Kevin frequently. In fact, I have friends who I haven't seen in years who ask about him. Actually, many of my friends refer to their chin hairs as Kevin. It doesn't bother me, though. It makes me happy that I am not the only one with a friend on the chin. I am on top of Kevin these days, getting him before he peeks out. Imagine my horror, however, when I was plucking last week, and realized that Kevin has been joined by two friends. Joacquin, who I named for my favorite actor, and Pierre, who has been named for his obnoxious placement in the exact middle of my chin, giving me the look of the demented Captain Morgan, or at least a mean spirited frenchman who has chosen to hate THIS American more than any other.
Now excuse me while I go hunting for Kevin and his friends.