My answer is no, it's not the early morning light that's plaguing me.
It's my husband, Chuck.
He's the one who stormed Beach Frogmama and dropped the wrinkle bomb. He's the one who was looking at me affectionately—or so I thought—in the kitchen as he was saying good-bye, the one who leaned in close—for a parting kiss, I thought—and blurted out, "Honey! You have wrinkles!" and threw me into a tizzy.
Truth be told, I had noticed the wrinkles a long time ago. (The exact date, if you're interested, was May 30, 2009, aka the same day I noticed I had grown chops that rivaled Ringo Starr's.) The wrinkles don't bother me so much. I'm a sleep-deprived woman in my thirties who has smiled a lot. How could I not have a few wrinkles?
Still, no woman wants to be called out on them. The surprise in Chuck's voice (and the honey part) saved him from eating a knuckle sandwich, but I groused and moaned to the point where he sent me a conciliatory email a few hours later:
I know, I know, his swooning is so embarrassing.
The email contained a photo attachment. Of what? I wondered. Chuck holding an "I'm sorry" sign? Chuck holding a bunch of roses? Diamonds? A "Husbands are senseless buttholes" t-shirt?
Nope, Chuck sent me a photo from the paranormal investigation he'd just driven to—a photo given to Chuck as pre-investigation evidence:
With shit like this in my inbox, is it any wonder I have wrinkles?
11 comments:
Well maybe if you saw a ghostly baby in your house you would scream so hard you would scare the wrinkles right off of your face.
Don't you love husbands?
One time Old Dog and I were standing on the deck and I was waving my arm to draw his attention to something out in the front yard and I noticed he was staring fixedly at my arm.
"What?" I demanded (like a total idiot).
"I never noticed before how saggy your arm is."
I gotta stop asking.
Do you see the kid form in the left-hand corner? It's so creepy! Alas, not creepy enough to scare the wrinkles off my face.
:(
I remember the first time I looked in the mirror and noticed that I had wrinkles. I finally had to admit that I was getting older. I still look at the person in the mirror and sometimes have to remember that that person is me.
the baby/little kid in the corner--freaky!
Geez, I don't see it! The wrinkles or the baby!
Oh husbands... Don't they know not to point out the obvious :(
You are familiar with the research that shows our brains have a massive tendency to find faces in everything (even grilled cheese sandwiches), yes?
Creepy...
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Huh, I didn't read the entirety of Chuck's email because clearly it's not that important, so I was looking upper right. Where there appears to be a scary cloud face with lightning bolts?
But yeah, the kid is creepy too.
Apparently I have zero imagination or can't see worth crap because I totally didn't see anything at all eery in that picture. Which actually probably explains why I think I still look dang good for nearing 40, come to think of it! :)
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