Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, Am I my Mother After All?

Mirror, Mirror on the wall, Am I my mother after all? Crap. “How could this happen?” I sobbed. Except there I was in the bathroom holding one of the jars of face cream she gave me. I stared at her with a look of resistance; yet, her words rang in my ears,

“Gail, this is very expensive and it’s for your neck. Neck cream is important. It’s from the “Sisley” counter at Neimans.”

“Huh? Neck cream, there’s special stuff just for the neck?” I’m thinking she’s been tricked once again by one of her cosmetic gurus.

“Yes, you shouldn’t ignore your neck,” she insisted. I must admit her neck was lookin’ pretty good. I took a quick peek at mine and almost screamed. Why didn’t I have her neck? Could it be her magic cream produced results or was I getting Dad’s turkey jowls? It was hard but I held back tears.

“Oh and here’s some very expensive Sisley body cream for dry areas.” Dry areas? Mom likes expensive; she thinks it means better. Admittedly, at 92, she’s either a freak of nature or the damn products work. Curses!

I have bags of masks, lotions and potions she’s given me over the years. I’ve never used them — rejecting the notion that they do anything, no less turn back the clock. Her fancy facial masks took too much time and looked really creepy. However, she held fast, regardless of my laughing at her face caked with some bank-breaking formula. I can still conjure up the smell of Estee Lauder wafting from her bathroom when I was growing up. I would gag and run outside. I swore I’d never waste all that time on beauty.

Uh oh, it seems time has caught up with me. One day I have no wrinkles, a dewy complexion, and a jaw line and then poof…gone. What happened? Where was the “girl” in the mirror? I found myself asking the BIG question – could neck cream really help? Do those little jars Mom gave me hold the answer? I had to find out or drag all the mirrors out to the garbage. I slathered the slimy lotion on my neck and plastered my face with some creamy white stuff that smelled like weeds. I went to bed pretty slippery. I’m Mom.