No. I'm not talking about my first wrinkle. I got one of those a long time ago. I'm talking about my ten-year-old daughter's first wrinkle.
"Mama!" she cried this morning. "I have a wrinkle."
"Seriously?" I said. "You're ten years old. How could you possibly have a wrinkle?"
She scrunched up her forehead. "Look!" she said.
"Well, of course you're going to have wrinkles when you scrunch up your forehead," I said, hardly surprised.
Then she stopped scrunching. "Look again," she said.
The wrinkles were there, barely detectable, but still present.
"Uh oh," I said. "Better get some Oil of Olay on that!"
She ran up and plastered her face with that stuff.
I guess I better go find her a bottle of Miss Clairol. Gray hairs will be next!