Ever since Gabriel and Markus noticed the hair on my lower arm, they’ve been teasing me about it. I’ve seen more hairy women, called balbon in the Philippines, and back in my country, it was viewed as an asset among females. That was the impression I got from people. I’m not sure if times have changed and being balbon is now something to be ashamed of. Or maybe I got it wrong.
My sons are just exaggerating this “hairy arm” thing. The fact that they noticed only recently means it is not very obvious.
“Mom, why don’t you shave your arms?” Gabriel asked one afternoon while we were watching TV in the living room.
“No, shaving makes the hair tough. Women wax,” Mickey butted in from the dining table.
“So, Mom, why don’t you wax your arm?” Gabriel continued.
“I don’t like to wax my arm. I like my arm,” I replied.
Markus hatched a plan. “Kuya Gabriel, let’s wax Mom’s arm while she is sleeping.” Then turning to me, he said, “Come on, Mom, we’ll do your moustache too.”
“I don’t have a moustache!” I protested.
Ahh, these kids need to go back to school quick before they notice my eyebrows. And I better hide my gel épilatoire.