My husband looked at me yesterday from his easy chair and said, “You have wrinkles under your chin.” “What?” I said. Did I hear the man right? Did he say I had wrinkles under my chin? Surely not. No man in his right mind would speak those words to his wife. And most assuredly mine would not because number one he wants to live and number two he loves me too much to say something that would hurt my feelings. I asked him to repeat his comment. OKAY. I heard him right. I jetted to the bathroom where the mirror confirmed there were wrinkles under my chin. How had I missed them? Had I been so busy worrying about the wrinkles on my face I’d completely forgotten my neck? After all it holds up my head - one would think I would have noticed it. I was good to my neck. I smoothed wrinkle cream on it when I did my face. I used a scrub, a mask, expensive creams. And still it lets me down. All I can think about is my neck. Of course I’m not speaking to my husband
"All the characters who have housed my stories now have permanent apartments in my head - I still have tea with them." bw