Whoopee Do

Is that how you spell it? I don't know. I haven't said that in years, and yet, it just came out of my head and I KNOW it shows my age. Who cares.

I like my age, mostly. Actually, I do like my age--being 45 is so much better than being 35 (for me), but it's the sagging jaw line and the rest that I can do without. I heard on NPR recently--of all places--that Botox did $1B in sales last year. I told my husband that one of my two railroad track furrows, the lovely twin parallel marks between eyebrows, is named "Spencer."

Spencer is a good kid, really, but not a kid so much anymore. He's been a great son. Parenting this stage when he's nearly 18 and most decisions are biggies while trying to nudge him towards life without pushing too hard, well, my left furrow is deeper and more furrow-like than it used to be.

Whoopee do.

[Photo: http://flickr.com/photos/nicklawes/]