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Jewish World Review July 8, 2002 / 28 Tamuz, 5762
Lori Borgman
http://www.NewsAndOpinion.com | Calming my mother down after I told her I was thinking about going in for botox was more than I bargained for. "But why?" she pleaded over the phone. "I didn't even know you'd been drinking. I knew you made a batch of that tiramisu with the coffee-flavored liqueur - and now detox?" "No, Ma, I didn't say detox. I said botox. Botox is where a doctor shoots a bacteria known to cause food poisoning in under the skin on your face to block nerve impulses. Once the nerves are blocked, wrinkles disappear like magic. A lot of women are doing it." "And a lot of women are getting tummy tucks, lipo jobs and eyelid lifts. I suppose you're going to do that, too?" " I hadn't thought of it, but now that you mention it--" "Tell me more about this detox." "Botox! Well, botox parties are all the rage right now. Women gather in a doctor's office for some little hors d'oeuvres, cheese and crackers, bottled water and then go back one at a time for the injections." "So, it's like a Tupperware party for wrinkled women, but with needles instead of plastic?" "Exactly," I say. "You socialize, chit chat a bit, nibble on a few things, just take the edge off before the doctor whips out the syringe." "Why can't women be happy organizing their cupboards with plastic boxes like my generation?" "I don't know, Mom. Times change." "And this botox would wipe out all your wrinkles? Erase your crow's feet? Eliminate those frown lines? " "Every last one of them. At least for a few months. Then the effect wears off, so you go back for another party. It's sort of like when you get the Tupperware tumblers home and realize you wanted eight instead of four, so a couple of months later you hit another party." "You've got to be crazy," she said. "I can't believe you'd even think about getting ride of those lines on your face. Wrinkles are the best weapon a mother has," she said. "Have you forgotten everything I taught you?" I thought for a moment and realized she was right. How many times have I told my son that I didn't have any crow's feet until he hosted that small unauthorized social gathering while house-sitting for a neighbor? How many times have I told the kids that other mothers' wrinkles may be caused by age, but mine were caused by adolescence -- theirs. Haven't I told the girls that if the squabbling over who borrowed what doesn't end, I'll have to putty the lines between my brows? Why, just the other day I stood behind the youngest, looked in the mirror and said, "Look at those wrinkles. I look like I'm 105. And to think you put at least a third of them there." She turned and gave me a hug. Some of my best quality time with the kids is a result of the lines etched in my face. Get rid of wrinkles? I'd sooner burn the family photo albums. "You're right, Mom. I don't know what I was thinking."
"I worry about you," she snapped. "As if my crow's feet weren't proof of
that already."
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06/28/02: One perfect day
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