Moms

Another year, another wrinkle

I've got a birthday this week. I turn 47. And yet I don't feel a day over 46.

Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror and wonder what in the hell happened?

Since when did my hair turn white? Not only on my sideburns and around my temples, but the stuff is taking over my chest. Out with the brown, in with the gray!

It's like old man kudzu. And I'm not excited about where it might appear next.

The older I get, the more grooming I do. As if showering and shaving isn't enough every day, I now have to hunt for rogue hair all about my being.

Oh there's a thatch growing out of my nostril. A pompom of fuzz protruding from my ear canal. And the one, only one, standing fully erect right on the top of my left shoulder-blade.

My eyebrows remind me of the fringe on my grandma's handmade afghans. I could serve spinach dip out of the crevices in my forehead. Not only do I need glasses to read the menu at a restaurant, I also can't see my food without them. Imagine my surprise when the blurry "carrots" I bit into turned out to be rutabaga. YUCK.

My grandfather, Woodrow, had a forehead the size of Montana. And as Spurgeon, the other, added years to his life, his ears expanded like a Magic Towel wash cloth. What a future.

I pee all the time, and there's a 3" x 3" patch of skin on my back that's as dry as a bone. "Oooooo Dad! What is that? Scabies?"

"No! It's not scabies!! It's dry skin - it's called eczema."

"You need to get that checked out. It's gross."

My girls are outstanding at pointing out all my flaws.

"You're belly is jiggly!" "You have warts on your feet." "I didn't know you could get pimples at such an old age."

I'm thankful I had the opportunity to develop a strong self-esteem before I had girls nearing the teenage years.

They haven't discovered the vein that's popping out around my right ankle although they relish the opportunity to discuss the volume of lint that collects in my bellybutton. "Pull it out dad, I need a new scarf for winter."

Where does that stuff come from and why is it in my navel? I feel like a dryer.

I'm like an old house that needs major repairs. I'm just not sure I could recoup the investment.

  Comments