Offspring

Dammit to hell, is there no justice in the world?? If there were, I would not simultaneously need both wrinkle cream AND acne cream. I awoke this morning to find that I had sprouted a couple of “appendages” on my forehead overnight. When is this going to stop? Shouldn’t there be an age past which a person should not have to deal with a “blemish” problem? Like maybe the age when your whole face is sagging and you start growing your grandma’s jowls? Will I be 90 years old, in a rest home, my face a roadmap of wrinkles and jowls hanging down around my collar bone, with a big pimple on my forehead or on the end of my nose? At that point, I know I won’t have the dexterity or the visual acuity to pop it or apply the Clearasil, and then what will I do? Just sit there, mentally begging some underpaid orderly to put me out of my misery, probably. All the other feeble old ladies will be laughing behind my back. It’s going to be just awful.

In honor of the impending new year and my resolve to have a better attitude, I’ve decided to take the “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade” approach. Since it appears they’ll be around for a while, and I am otherwise bereft of offspring, I’ve decided to give them names. Diddleton Nimrod, the outgoing one, sits proudly directly between my eyes, while the more bashful Razmick Fernando is snuggled comfortably up against my left eyebrow. I’ll try to post the baby pictures tomorrow.