I read somewhere on the internet that chocolate can help you lose weight, lower blood pressure, increase sexual appetite, create the impression that you look like Jennifer Aniston, makes you rich and impede the hair growth on your legs. What? I did read that! You can read anything on the internet!
Since I’m now over 40, I feel it necessary to start making certain changes in my life. I've started by eating chocolate every chance I get!
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| Happy Birthday today to my little sister - who's not so young that she doesn't have to do a chin-check, but who's not so old as to stop peeing in the lake! |
yoga to keep my stress level in check. I’ve started using moisturizer in the mornings and wrinkle cream in the evenings. I’ve started carrying a notebook so I can write things down that I want to remember.
Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah. I’m now over 40 and have had to make some changes in my life.
One of the more, ummm…, less-than-sexy routines I’ve added to my morning has been what I call my chin-check. Oh, c’mon! Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about! Oddly enough, we women, as we age, have a tendency to produce hair on odd parts of our bodies. I’m not going to list ALL the places I’ve found hair, but I will share with you that it’s most commonly found on my chinny-chin-chin. It’s very easy to take care of, though… just a tweeze and a pluck and voila! Whiskerless again!
It’s not my favorite part of becoming a mature and experienced woman, but I can deal, yo?
Well, last week as I was getting ready to meet my best girlfriends for a night out, I did my daily chin check and was less than thrilled to discover not only a spare hair, but also a pimple! A zit! An Oozie! I had flashbacks to 1984 and screamed out, “Gah!” just before stomping my foot, then stiff-legging it and throwing myself, face down, on the bed.
“Honey, Baby doll? What is troubling you so?” is what The Dad should have said. What he actually said instead was, “What’s the deal?” My little man has so much yet to learn.
I patiently, through gritted teeth explained to him that it was awful enough having to pluck my chin as required and now I would have to pop zits, too?? Shouldn’t I be past the pimple stage? Hadn’t the horrible high school years been penance enough?? What would be next? Would my friends make fun of my skirted swim suit at the next neighborhood BBQ and not invite me to the newest Emilio Estevez movie on Friday night??
I finished my tirade, sighed big and rolled my eyes. He’d never understand. I finished getting ready to go out. I dried and straightened my hair. I moistured up my freshly shaven (shaven?) legs. I body spritzed my neck and chest. (I don’t know why. It’s just where I spritz!) I dug around in the hall closet and found some sort of goo that would work surely work on the pimple. It wouldn’t make it disappear instantly, but it would shrink it and make it less noticeable for those times when I had to remove my hand from my chin. I put on my make up and decided that despite the tweezing and popping, I didn’t look bad at all for a 40-something year old!
I grabbed my purse and headed to the living room to tell The Dad good bye and give him last minute instructions for The Daughters – as if he were an eighth grade babysitter. I leaned down to kiss him, and he looked right into my freshly-lined and shadowed eyes and said, “Aren’t you going to wear any make up out?”
Just like in high school, this boy may never get lucky again! At least not while I have a pimple!!
