Thoughts About Lips

Lips are our friends. They help us purse. Although they are not purses nor do they help us carry purses, unless we get those African plate-things embedded in them to stretch them. But pursing is a prerequisite to kissing, so lips are good.

Lips are also good for curling when something stinks or is ridiculous, or when you speak French. Lip extension exercises are a must for curling and speaking French. You could do a few right now. Just stick your lips out. Then draw them back. Now stick them out. Draw them back. And again: out, back. Now purse and curl them and say: "Bonjour, bébé. Ou se trouve l'Hotel Continental, s'il vous plait?" See? Without the ability to curl, purse, and extend, you would have sprained your lips attempting to say that. Plus, you can now find the Continental Hotel in any French-speaking city. You're welcome.

I bring all this up because today I am not feeling well. So I am sitting here trying unsuccessfully to rest, and my mind has taken off and I have started thinking about all the things I am grateful for. Eyebrows and eyelashes come to mind, for example, because they keep sweat out of my eyes when I exercise. They keep dust out of those same eyes when I stand romantically and diaphanously atop a hill allowing my long hair and skirts and scarf to blow in the wind, as you do.

Speaking of eyes, I am grateful for the eyes that sit like dust-and-sweat-free khaki orbs beneath my brows. Eyes that help me see. That is a good thing. Can't see close up, can't see things that are 20 feet away, but I can see things that are a foot away, and I can see the mountains. And that's cool. Makes for some seriously weird glasses, but I'm happy with what I've got. And I'm happy that I have mountains around me to be seen by my marvelous eyes.

And now let us address ears. Ears are mighty top-drawer to have. I've been listening to Christmas music for the past two weeks with them. I KNOW THAT IS MENTAL. BUT IF BETTER HOMES AND GARDENS CAN PUT OUT THEIR CHRISTMAS MAGAZINES BEFORE HALLOWEEN THUS ENGAGING MY CHRISTMAS PREPARATION-AND-ZEAL HORMONES, THEN DIP ME IN CRANBERRY SAUCE IF I CAN'T LISTEN TO THE CELTIC WOMEN CHRISTMAS ALBUM WHEN I WANT TO.

Music is the best. Also, my kids' giggles when they do something hilarious together is the best. The door opening when my husband comes home is the best. Someone else's dog barking so someone else can take care of it is the best. Mozart and Bach and Händel and Bublé and Mumford and Sons are the best. And so is the sound of a See's Chocolates box being opened.

Arms and legs and hands and feet are most wonderful. Even when they are moving rapidly in a forward motion without my permission because I have to run and get exercise or else my back, for which I am grateful, will go out and take my ribs with it and we can't have that. Grateful for those dudes. Very much. Also, they let me hug my favorite peeps and take walks with them.

But right now? Today? I am grateful for my lips. They are thin. They get cold sores. They are developing those little lines that lipstick runs into when you get old. They have laugh lines at their corners. They tremble when my eyes cry. They purse when I speak French. They purse when I taste Haägen Dasz 5 Lemon ice cream. They make fish lips to crack babies up. They kiss my husband's lips and my children's cheeks. They blow sweaty hair out of my eyes when my feet are dragging me along on the treadmill. They exhaust themselves laughing with friends and at Jack Black movies ("Those are the Orphan Cheeps. Theese is the billage Crazy-Lady"). They form the words I sing when I have the wonderful chance to sing. And they look good in plum lipstick with matching frosted plum lip liner.

I think my lips deserve a reward. And not just to have a dentist named after them (It's true. My childhood dentist was Dr. Lipps. Germany. Ramstein Airbase. Check it out.) My lips deserve to be fluffed up and pampered. So, bless their lippy hearts, I will. 

Restylane, here I come!

What do you think?