I was driving home yesterday evening when I first saw it. I’d left work about an hour late, catching the end of the photographer’s “golden hour” as I sat at the lone stoplight of my commute.
Right there above my left eyebrow. And another above my right. Tiny, quietly insignificant . Gigantic, yelling. Mocking me. Laughing at me.
I could almost hear them chant in a taunting, sing-song-y voice.
“WRIN-KLE! WRIN-KLE!” they cried, clearly enjoying my misery. Who knows how long they had sat, cozying themselves down further into my brow, making a happy little home just above the bridge of my nose? Waiting, patiently and quietly, for the day that I’d notice their presence.
The day my world would come crashing down.
I immediately took pains to rectify the situation. First I rubbed vigorously at the area, to see if they’d disappear. No luck. Then I licked my finger, and rubbed again – what worked for dirt in my childhood must work for wrinkles as an adult, right? Alas.
I stared at them intently, drawing my gaze away only for an occasional confirmatory glance at the intersection’s red light. I continued my experiments. Perhaps… yes. Adopting an alert expression eliminated my nemesis, transforming my forehead back to its familiar smooth landscape. I managed to make it all the way home that way – looking surprised at the next stop sign, shocked as I signaled to another car’s right-of-way, and bewildered by the time I pulled up outside my own house. As I walked up the front steps I could feel the feigned astonishment fade from my face. I reached up, detecting the faintest hint of those two little crevices that are now a permanent part of my facial landscape.
I’m not surprised.
But what do I have to complain about? My sister-in-law is 32 today. Now THAT’s old.
Happy birthday, Laura! 🙂