Lint: it's not for everyone...

I am a believer that no coincidence should be ignored, because they are not often, in fact, coincidental. When you look closer at seemingly random, related happenings, you will often discover a deep truth - either entirely personal or one that could change the entire world.

I have come across two such coincidences in the last couple of weeks and, while I have yet to determine if the truth is personal or universal, I've decided to share it anyway: girls do not get belly button lint.

Now, to you ladies who read my blog, you're probably thinking, "Duh! And, in case you hadn't noticed, we also don't have testicles, Mike." It's not necessarily to you to whom I'm communicating this truth, though.

Rather, it's to the men, who have needed at least the time allotted by reading the above paragraph to come to grips with this. Yes, my fellow menfolk, it's true, we are the only ones who get belly button lint.

For us dudes, the morning de-linting of the belly button (for me, it's a quick rub-and-pinch movement with my right forefinger and thumb, while my left-hand's counterparts hold open the navel) before we step into the shower has become ritual, just like dropping a deuce first thing or scratching our boxers as a wake-up routine. I just do it, look at the accumulation in case anything of value slipped in there, throw the worthless bits away, step in the shower and commence soaping up my sinewy, bulging, taut muscles.

But for the members of the more beautiful sex? Not so. They don't do that, their morning routine misses that step. We're missing a rib, they're missing the lint - I guess it evens out after all.

The two coincidences that led me to this astonishing revelation were two separate mentions of lint in my daily life, within a two-week span. That's a highly unusual lint-to-normal-conversation ratio, I think. I mean, lint just doesn't come up much and neither do belly-buttons. Although, when they do, you do tend to hear cross-references from one to the other.

The first intrusion that lint made upon my normal life, was the discovery of one Mr. Graham Barker. Barker is a fellow blogger, which makes him odd and outcast enough, but that's not what's interesting about him. No, rather, he makes the uncontested claim to have the world's largest collection of belly button lint. Every day, during his morning cleaning of the navel, instead of throwing away what he reaps, he saves in in jars. He's been doing this for 23 years. And, surprisingly, he's still single! Amazing!

(If you want to see a picture of his collection, check it out here. It's... um... unique...)

Weird though his collection is, I didn't think too much of it. Most times, stuff I read on the 'net holds my attention for a few minutes - long enough to read it and pass it on if it's worthwhile - and then I forget about it. Since this didn't resonate too much, I promptly filed it in my mind's forgotten folder.

But it came back to me not a week later. I was talking on the phone to my girlfriend and I was getting dressed (or undressed or in some state of dressing) when I noticed that some lint had accumulated in my belly button. So, I cleared it out and tossed it into the trash, telling her what I was doing as I did so, since I like to be a open and honest boyfriend, one that always provides hours of stimulating and enlightening conversation. You know, just like I am here.

She was revolted, claiming that my story was the most disgusting thing she'd ever heard. Which, it wasn't, since I topped it by promptly telling her the Graham Barker story and she puked into her mouth, just a little bit.

She went on to claim that she "never gets belly button lint, nor has she ever."

I was amazed and confounded. Surely it couldn't be true! I mean, I have to clean a little bit out practically every day and that Barker guy has gallons of the stuff. I pressed her for more information, but she stuck to her story in convincing fashion.

My mind was blown.

I queried other females in the general vicinity (sister, friends and 78-year-old, non-English speaking landlord), all of whom corroborated Sonja's story - girls don't get lint. Well, I think that's what they all said. Maria, my landlord, may have said, "The pigeons are pooping on the sidewalk and I shot fireworks at them with my butt" in Portuguese, but I couldn't understand her. Her hand gestures seemed to either indicate she never had any lint in her belly button or that one of her kidneys was for sale, so I went with the lint tale that everyone else told.

Amazing. Shocking. Newsworthy.

Girls don't get belly button lint.

Again, I'm not sure what this revelation means, but I can only imagine that this knowledge cannot be for my own personal edification. After all, what's the use of lint?


--------------------------------
Editor's note: check out Barker's blog, which includes the results of a relatively scientific study about lint accumulation. One of the major factors in gathering belly fluff appears to be quantity of body hair. So, once Mike gets his next Brazilian, you won't have to read about lint here anymore.