By: Chrysa Smith
Through the years, life smacks you with some interesting stuff, doesn’t it? Good and bad, big and small, it’s all part and parcel of spending enough time doing or being. And while my innate reaction to most ‘stuff’ is to first and foremost–panic, I have learned to follow it up with a side serving of humor. A little laugh at irony or myself goes a long way in reducing stress and talking myself off the ledge.
It’s been learned well. My 92 year old mother and I were talking as she was applying her makeup. The conversation went something like this:
Mother: “I don’t like this brow pencil we bought. It’s like a crayon instead of a pencil and makes me look like I have owl eyes.”
Me: “Well, I’ve hardly got any brows left so I’ll try it.”
Mother: “Take it–with my blessing. And the other thing I’m not going to use anymore is that hair styling stuff. It makes my hair look like a bush.”
Me: “Well, you’re quite the beauty with owl eyes and bushy hair.”
Mother: “Yah, it goes well with my muffin top.”
Me: “Yah, I was reading about the C-section midriff ‘shelf’. The ledge you get once they cut you and your skin layers never quite recoup. I’ve got that.”
Mother: “Well it doesn’t get better. Everything’s disappearing or drying up.”
Me: “That’s very encouraging. Can’t wait to get even older.”
I could be running straight to the plastic surgeon’s office. But I won’t. I’ve got upper lip lines that make my lipstick ‘run’—but not to worry, I’ll catch up with it someday. I’ve got a few gray strands, so I’ll keep shpritzing the ‘Sun In’ to give my darkened hair a little lift, and pretend I cover the gray. When I put on my shorts last week during a little vacation, I rediscovered my thigh cellulite. So I took to my tanning towels to help camouflage the dimples.
It was so nice to see Cindy Crawford recently reveal her untouched photo in a bikini top with a less than 6-pack set of abs. It is a reality check for those of us who are so critical of our perceived flaws. We live life without an airbrush, a makeup team and smoke and mirrors.
So, as my brows continue to thin, skin loses its elasticity and everything begins to head south (winter or not), I’ll go have a chat and few laughs with my mom. Laughter, like good relationships, is good medicine—uh, that is, after a hearty Cabernet.