A Wolf in Mom's Clothing
"I think I'm turning into a werewolf," I told my dermatologist as I sat on the examining table in her office. There were posters on the wall and pamphlets for the treatment of wrinkles and fat, but nothing for werewolves.
"Why do you think that?" she said, peering at my pores. A thankless job if ever there was one.
"I'm starting to grow hair everywhere," I told her.
"Do you howl at the moon at night?" she asked.
"No."
"Then I think you're OK."
I was surprised she took this news so lightly. When I hit my fifties, I wasn't completely shocked when I sprouted a few chin hairs. I'd heard tales from other women about how aging could suddenly cause a plethora of unwanted bodily changes. But no one had ever mentioned things like sudden hair growth on my toe knuckles, and wrinkles on my knees. I mean, who gets wrinkles on their knees besides elephants and rhinos? Maybe I wasn't actually turning into a werewolf, I thought. Maybe I was turning into a woolly mammoth instead.
After I got home from the dermatologist, I called a friend who was the smartest person my age I knew -- not a certified specialist in anything, but she had an encyclopedic knowledge of every inane thing on the planet.
"I'm growing hair on my toes, and I have wrinkled knees," I told her. "What the heck is going on?"
"You have kninkles?" she said.
...continued
Copyright 2024 Creators Syndicate Inc.
