The other day I went to my annual "please check this mole and assure me that my skin is going to peel off with cancer" appointment. While I was there I asked how much it would cost to botox the anger out of my face. You know that line between your eyes that makes you look damn old and pissed off. But it's really just a wrinkle from squinting. Squinting so you don't have to wear your glasses. Because your glasses make you look old. Screw you irony!
The super pretty Dermatologist lady told me she would just do a tiny bit of Botox, and it wouldn't cost much at all. (Which was a big fat lie since she wanted $400. Not going to happen. If I had $400 to spend frivolously on myself it would involve massages, foot rubs and new underwear with snappy elastic.)
For fun, I mentioned that I heard you can botox your eye area so your eyes don't disappear when you smile. She looked at me and asked me to smile. Then grabbed a-hold of both my cheeks with her fingers, squeezed them and jiggled them side to side while she said "It's not your eyes. It's these cheeks that are eating your eyes up!" Then she told daughter she had pretty skin and walked out the door.
Once I got into my car I whipped out my Weight Watcher's points journal and started kissing ass like an abusive husband. "I know I let you down baby, but I'm back now. I swear I'll be good!" Then daughter and I went and ate BLT's at the diner. With fries. But I'm going to make it up to my journal with a real nice flax seed waffle tomorrow morning. No butter. I swear baby.