Is That Even A Thing?
I’m beginning to believe some people are charmed and live unwrinkled lives.
Not like me.
My life is real wrinkled up and I’m sure anybody who’s looking can tell that. I don’t mean my skin. It’s not too bad given my years on this earth. What I’m talking about goes far deeper than just the surface.
I think some individuals just get up in the mornings and they drink their coffee—which might be the problem right there, or my first wrinkle, come to think of it. I don’t drink coffee. Never have. I drink tea, good old Southern tea but not even sweet like a normal person. Nope, there’s a wrinkle for you! I drink my tea “unsweet.”
In the South, we don’t call it “unsweetened tea” or “sweetened tea.” It’s sweet or unsweet. Just like a coke is just a coke whether it’s Dr. Pepper or some other kind. You just have to be from the South to speak the language.
But anyway. I’m talking about wrinkles and the people who seem to live without them.
They get up and drink their coffee and they go about their lives without any hitches. Go to work, do your job, go shopping, never get stuck in traffic, answer the phone, it’s not about an extended warranty or Medicare’s new plan which they aren’t old enough for yet…nothing out of the ordinary. Come home, have supper (or dinner if you want to call it that) and go to bed to do it again the next day.
No wrinkles.
Their car always knows where it’s supposed to go, and they never get halfway down the road and realize it’s almost one o’clock and they’ve forgotten to eat FOR THE ENTIRE DAY and they’re starving to death, and they left all their money at home. Also, there’s only 57 miles to E and probably 56 miles to get there and back.
That’s a freaking wrinkle, but there’s a jar of peanut butter rolling around on the floor board and a couple of dirty plastic spoons from the last couple of times this happened so everything’s okay, let me just bend over while I’m driving in this heavy traffic and grab that rolling jar and kind of tap the dried peanut butter off the spoon onto my skirt because heck, it’s almost fried and dried now in this heat and DANG it’s like I prepared for this or God knew I would have this moment……
WRINKLES
That’s my whole life, I’d say.
One lack of preparation disaster after another, one forgotten meal and gas stop after another, one close call after another.
And some people don’t live like that, all wrinkled and twisted and eating peanut butter with a dirty spoon while talking the scenario into the phone to blog about later because they can’t figure out if it’s hilariously funny or sadly pathetic—or both.
This was my today life, and I was headed to a baby shower. I had an idea to make the peanut butter my excuse for already smelling like it, because I used castor oil on my face, arms, and legs earlier today. It helps my skin with those old surface wrinkles, and I think it smells like peanut butter.
At first I nearly drowned myself in some expensive perfume, but I thought if someone could still smell a hint of a nut (no pun intended, okay, yes I meant to do that) then I could blame it on the peanut butter, even though I chewed an entire pack of gum after I ate the peanut butter in an attempt to get rid of the peanutty smell.
More wrinkles.
I don’t know what I’d do with a life that went smoothly and without a ridiculous hitch or two.
I wouldn’t be me.
The people with no wrinkles aren’t real people anyway. You figure it out when one of them dies.
Someone will remark on it:
“So and so died the other day. I read it in the obits.”
“Yeah, I never really knew her.”
“Me either. She was hard to get to know.”
“Lucky girl though. Everything just seemed to fall into her lap.”
“Yeah. Sad.”
“I noticed she didn’t have any wrinkles.”
“That’s too bad. You don’t really live unless you have wrinkles…”
There are worse things than living a life with wrinkles. You could be living a life without them.
Apparently I’m never going to have to worry about it.
Kisses y’all.
Pink Hair and Pajama Bottoms 