Look, we have to talk.

We need to discuss some things. You’re 30 now, and it’s time to grow up and out of the blemish stage. Really, it’s embarrassing for us both. You’re an adult, and this is a problem for teenagers. Despite the whole trend of my-decade-is-the-new-younger-decade thing, this is like grandmas going clubbing: sometimes you just have to face up to reality and act your age.

And don’t take this to mean I’ll stop paying attention to you. You are very soft, and I think you’ll be my friend when wrinkles want to move in. You do bruise ridiculously easily, but you tan fairly well too, so that helps. And hey, didn’t I just notice the birthmark that popped up on my side last week? And have I ever complained about the mark on my neck that looks like a fading hickey? We all make mistakes and I forgive you.

Honey, I know we all want to be noticed. But this isn’t the wisest way to go about it. In fact you’ll get so much more attention if you work with me here, I promise. So can we try to move forward gracefully please? Because I do wield some power too, you know, and I’d hate to threaten a chemical peel. But I will.

Just think about it. We still have time.



P.S. Is this about the tattoos?