A noise made me turn to see what it was, but I only saw myself staring back at me from a full-length mirror that I put there in order to check if my slip was showing or there was toilet paper on my shoe. Since I was bent over the keyboard, my face tipped to one side, and I noticed that I was lopsided.
I forgot all about the noise and leaned closer.
It was true. The skin on the lower side of my face was slightly longer than the skin on the upper side of my face.
But, wait, look there! The uphill cheek had sag, too, but it sagged toward my nose, creating a pouch of skin, like a reverse chipmunk cheek.
After a few seconds studying my reflection, I couldn’t resist tipping my head to the other side.
Glory be. Now the other side of my face sagged down, just a little, like a big, soft marshmallow just starting to melt.
And now my other cheek snuggled up against my nose like a new puppy.
Wow. I’d never seen my skin so mobile before. It was almost like silly putty. It certainly was silly something.
When I looked straight into a mirror, it didn’t look like that. It’s true that if I bent my head, then raised my eyes before I had my head all the way up, I’d catch sight of a little extra padding between neck and chin.
But it went away as soon as I lifted my chin.
Or I thought it did.
Now I had to try something else. I lay backwards across the chair and tipped my head back until I stared into the mirror, upside down.
Two little piggy eyes stared back at me. Cheeks crowded my cheekbones, wrinkling under bulging skin that couldn’t get over the bump.
I didn’t even recognize myself. I laughed out loud.
What a great spy disguise, if you could only get it to stay that way. Someone needs to invent a face elevator. You could make your skin go up, down, up, down, or stop anywhere in between.
For my next experiment, I grabbed a hand held mirror and bent forward until my face paralleled to the floor. I stared at the blobby sack of flesh before my eyes. Exaggerating my lips, I said, “Hel-lo. How are you to-day?”
It was quite entertaining.
I raised my eyebrows.
I wiggled my nose.
I made a kissy face.
Then I burst out laughing.
My husband would definitely want to close his eyes to smooch that face.
On second thought, why should he? He’d enjoy a good laugh as much as I would.
I never thought that sagging could be so much fun.
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