Botox

I went on a lovely family outing last Sunday. We went to a cast and crew screening of Nanny McPhee (small c big P) 2, and it was brilliant. On the drive home I realised there was now nothing between me and my internet dutch lover date at 3pm, other than a quick brush down to remove any pop corn kernels caught in my bra.... While we sat in traffic my sister decided that with less than an hour before my first ever blind date, she would use this as an opportunity to discuss my cosmetic surgery needs. It was like a doctor circling every pimple, dimple, crease and crevice on your face and body with a felt tip pen. Coming at you with a pair of secateurs all under one of those magnified mirrors with lights. 'Don't you think you should try botox?' she said. 'I mean it's not your fault, its from all the running' she continued. 'It's just that someone needs to be the guinea pig, so why not you?'. Apparently I could do with the diagonal line between my eyebrows freezing, my eye wrinkles plumping and reducing and while we have got the felt tip out, the removal of 3 moles, 'Are they spots or moles or what?' digging the sibling scissors in further. I went to my date feeling like a cross between Nanny McPhee, the She Devil with a bit of Worzel thrown in. I did however make it through my date confidently, in daylight, and without so much as a raised eye brow and with neither one of us mentioning the paper bag on my head.