For My Forty-Sixth Birthday
from "For My Forty-Sixth Birthday," published in 2025 by Tuleburg Press. Copies available via contact form.
My mother offered me Botox for my forty-sixth birthday. She found a spa she trusted where the women receiving the procedure did not come out looking like Muppets. It wasn’t a “maybe” suggestion, but it wasn’t forceful either. It was just what she wanted to get me, and she knew I’d love it.
Now self-conscious about something I cared nothing about before, I cut bangs, and they covered the lines that furrow my brow. Those in the know call them the “angry elevens.” I did not do the Botox. There is no easy fix for the lines around my mouth, but I’ll worry about that later, if ever.
I still have freckles, which I was told by said mother not to worry about because they would be long gone into adulthood. My pale-faced friend, Dewi, told me I was lucky because the age spots don’t show. I didn’t even know age spots might be an issue. I just noticed some larger, darker freckles.
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