I’ll be straight with you — when I go somewhere for the first time (like my kids’ new school, or a book club with new friends), I try to look my best. And by “try to look my best,” I mean I freak out about my clothes and hair and social awkwardness, but most of all, I obsess about that wrinkle carving a permanent space in between my eyes.
I mean, that’s not a cool place to have a wrinkle. That’s the kind of place where Nobel laureates and college professors and angry PE teachers get wrinkles, and those wrinkles only look distinguished on two-thirds of this particular population. Just imagine how it looks on a work-from-home mom of five whose primary hobby is kicking things. Not great, y’all.
And yet it’s there, despite all my efforts to stamp out my telltale stress-wrinkle. So sometimes, in a fit of pathetic desperation, I try and cover it with makeup.
Spoiler alert: This never works, and the strategic placement of the bridge of my enormous glasses directly beneath my stress-wrinkle manages to draw attention both to the wrinkle itself and to the poorly executed attempt to conceal it.