I stole this idea from a story in the Parade magazine in today's Sunday paper. The author started her article with a quote from George Orwell:
"At age 50, everyone has the face he deserves."
Is that so? I wish I knew that long ago, perhaps I would have done things differently...like not spend so much time basking out in the sun, ignoring all the experts who were telling us that this would cause skin damage. Or pouting about things that were or weren't not to come.
But at least I stayed away from drugs, cigarettes and alcohol because all in all I think my face at this point in my life isn't quite so bad, even if there are times I'm a bit shocked when I glance in the mirror. I'm not as young looking as I think I am.
Instead of being limited to a one page article, I'll tell my story in six days. A story a day, a story a decade.
I'm in Kindergarten, still in my (forgive me) cute stage. The little Debbie of my family, little Debbie Doo to my grandfather. Beyond excited to follow in my sister's footsteps and begin my career in school. I still have a face that strangers love to smile at, cheeks that family members love to pinch and kiss. From what my mom says, I still have a baby voice with baby speak until I start school and I realize that my classmates aren't as likely to coo over the way I say words such as three (tree) and I quickly drop the act. What this doesn't show is that already I have learned to keep secrets, having been molested by an older cousin. And so begins the life of me. My first decade, full of love, family, ups and downs.