As long as the crow doesn’t poop

As long as the crow doesn’t poop

I have crow’s feet. Cosmo would have me call them “fine lines,” but the corners of my eyes crinkle when I smile and don’t uncrinkle when I don’t, which is the OED definition of crow’s feet. If this were a rom/com, my flamboyantly gay best friend would cluck over my reflection in the bathroom mirror and offer to tape my face back with toupee stick-em until I looked like Joan Rivers caught in a wind tunnel. I would let him, of course, because I would be played by Meg Ryan and directed by Nora Ephron, who we all know hates her neck.

Lacking a flamboyantly gay best friend, I considered sandblasting and, if that didn’t work, a warm iron set on the “silks and delicates” setting. In a fit of rationality, I called that Plan B and instead bought a tube of eye gunk, which costs more per ounce than gold-plated saffron and will probably turn out to be just as effective on wrinkles.

But here’s the crazy part. After a few days of deep breathing, I’m kind of okay with the lines, even a little proud of them.

No one is more surprised than me.

I know this would be way funnier if I went off the deep end and somehow ended up super gluing my face to a toilet seat. If it’s any conciliation, given my history of unfortunate run-ins with household products, it is quite likely I will, at some point, super glue my face to a toilet seat. Stay tuned.

I had hoped by the time I was having to be fine with Father Time shatting on my face, I’d be a little smarter than this, have a few best sellers under my belt, Oprah’s cell number on speed dial. I’d hoped that as a woman with these new distinguished features I would have conquered my fear of cooked spinach and hairy spiders, be able to keep custard from curdling in the sauce pan and have an encyclopedic knowledge of world religions and Portuguese wine. None of those things is true. And really, it might be best for everyone if we gave up on the spinach thing, but I have learned a few things.

1. Never leave the house without Kleenex, a tampon and I.D. Everything else is optional.
2. Don’t make a major decision or start an argument after 10 p.m.
3. Honey really does work better than vinegar.
4. Related: You can always kill them later if you have to.
5. Related: It’s very difficult to bury a body before the spring thaw.
6. When a girlfriend needs you, you drop everything.
7. When a stranger pees on you in public, there is nothing on earth that can make you feel better about it.
8. See item 5.
9. A vodka gimlet has two ingredients. The bartender will still screw it up.
10. Laughter makes everything – absolutely everything – better.

But just so there’s no misunderstanding about this wrinkle business. The minute a PA asks if the makeup artist can “do something” about my face, I will use his testicles for earmuffs.

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