An about-face on facelifts
8th June, 2007
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It was a pleasant family photograph - Mum, Dad, my sister, my wife and myself all smiling and for once no-one had their eyes closed or a digit casually inserted in a nostril, this being the usual Willems reaction to the appearance of a camera. I passed the photo to Mum who admired it and then to Dad who took one look and demanded to know the name of the man in the front row.
Had Mum been sprung? After more than 30 years of marital fidelity, had she wandered from the path or righteousness and taken up with some ageing Romeo?
"It's you," I said to Dad, who was still staring at the photo.
He had another look at the photo and shook his head. "That may be," he conceded, "but the trouble with getting old is that you don't feel old in your head, just your body." Creeping towards the big 30 myself, I knew what he meant. The thought of birthdays made me rub my knee. I'd been getting twinges in one knee and had been wondering if I was getting arthritis. This, of course, was impossible as only 'old' people got arthritis and I wasn't old. These musings were interrupted by Mum who suddenly leapt to her feet.
"Bugger!" she yelled, twisting her head to inspect the seat of the pair of cream slacks she was wearing and which were now decorated with a haphazard brown pattern. "Chocolate!" she shrieked, looking accusingly at Dad, who was now staring out the window and feigning deafness.
As a chocolate addict, it is his habit to leave caches of it scattered around the house and Mum had just sat one one. She stomped off to change but, still obsessing over birthdays, I had little sympathy to spare for anyone other than myself. I've now stopped ridiculing people who have clearly had facelifts and find myself wondering just how much they actually cost and if I could have one without anyone knowing. The conundrum, obviously, is that if you had a facelift that no-one noticed, then what would be the point? You want to look different - not exactly the same as you did before, but if people found out I'd been so vain as to have one at my age, I'd be laughed out of town. Still, "get quote for facelift" has now been added to the list of things I will do if - sorry, when - I win Lotto, where it has been pencilled in beneath "buy blue Porsche". I once worked with a man who had a secret nose job. He took holidays and disappeared for a few weeks and would have succeeded in cloaking his little procedure in secrecy if the nurse who just happened to be working in the operating theatre hadn't just happened to be the girlfriend of a mate of mine. Brisbane can be such a small town. My wife tells me that I'm losing my bum, which is careless of me. Perhaps there are special bum-building exercises you can do to arrest this slow retreat, or maybe the answer lies in seeking out a pair of inflatable buttocks. If women can have super-uplift bras, what's so wrong with male underdaks containing padded buttocks?
"What size bottom would sir like?"
Quite apart from any cosmetic effect, they'd be handy when sitting on hard seats at the footy. I felt my knee again and wondered if I should go to a doctor. I felt my bum. It didn't seem to be getting any smaller but it was difficult to tell. Mum reappeared in a clean pair of slacks and reminded me that she will be 58 in October and that she thought she was starting to shrink. I was going to get her to check out my bum but thought better of it. My wife and I went home and I wrote "check price of new bum" beneath "get quote for facelift". I have a feeling it's going to become a very long list. |
