Crinkles are coming

There used to be a store in Tucson, which we often passed on the drive home. It was one of those tchotchke places, that sold decorations for holidays. Actually, I never went in, but it always had a fake pine in the window, covered in ornaments for Thanksgiving or Valentine's day. It was one of those stores that I'm surprised can even stay in business. And in this case, it didn't. But while it was there, it felt like every 2 months they would advertise with a huge sign on the shop window: "Crinkles are coming!" and then, "Crinkles are here!"

I have no clue what a crinkle is. Or what crinkles are. Or, obviously, even whether you purchase a bunch (like with flowers) or a gallon (maybe they are more like water) of crinkles. But they sure were on their way often.

A few weeks ago, I was in a hardware store here in Zurich, with my friend K, and her toddler. As we walked the aisles, I found myself mystified by the light bulb selection. I somehow couldn't find non-fluorescent bulbs in the size I needed for the dining room lamps. K quietly giggled and said that at that instant, there was no doubt as to who Baby A's mom was. We had the same concentrated frown. I smiled. K effortlessly scanned the display and quickly found my light bulbs. We went to pay.

Another friend recently mentioned something about sunglasses and not wanting to encourage those frown lines between her eyebrows. I know how she feels. I've often tried to be more conscious of my "passive face" expression. More often than not, a frown creeps in, as if I'm silently upset. And I'm not. My face just does that. So does my mom's, and her sister's, and her other sister's. And probably my cousin's. And my daughter's. It's a family thing.

I already have wrinkle lines up there. Some of the first "I'm getting old" features I see when I look in the mirror. But after what K said, I'm wearing them proudly.




So wrinkles are coming! Other wrinkles are (already) here! They make it easy to identify me as Baby A's mama. And I like that.