Oh No!

Somewhere amidst 1976 and 2009, a big dent had snuck up on my face and wedged itself deeply between my eyes. I scowled at it, before realising that was why I had started to look like ‘Churchill the nodding dog’ in the first place. I stopped scowling at once, experimenting instead with pulling my eyebrows up and across my forehead.

Downstairs, Accountant cranked up his piercing ‘whistle while you laze’ routine and I watched my eyebrows ping back together as if joined by elastic. ‘Of course’, I whispered to myself, stroking my sagging jowls, as a decade’s din from Accountant’s internal wind instruments assembled in my head. “It’s all his fault”. Living with Accountant, the one man band, was like living with a human bagpipe that never runs out of air. Previous lodgers used to comment before they moved out. No wonder I was wrinkling around the edges.

Now Chickie had joined the Tinnitus Two supplementing Accountant’s bluebottle style ‘bzzzing’ with velocity and determination. Whilst Accountant would whistle ‘Go West’ in the upper register, clicking his tongue between key changes, Chickie would roar a la Godzilla in accompaniment. Then Accountant would spend forty minutes perfecting his ‘dripping water’ impression.

I don’t know if it was the water torture or acoustic shock that sent me flying down the stairs crying, “JUST BE QUIET!” but, it worked. For about twenty seconds. Then it began again with renewed impetus, now that a reactive audience waited in the wings.

Feeling sorry for myself, I went back to the mirror, to review my situation. The scowl was so big now, it had been joined by two smaller scowls that stood like a pair of bodyguards either side of it. I wished I wasn’t too scared to Botox them to hell, figuring the suspension of all facial expression at this age, could leave my face frozen in 2009 forever. I liked that idea but stopped myself from smiling. Nor would there be any more laughing, talking or raising of eyebrows.

The evening was spent online reviewing ‘Miracle Creams’. “Hope in a Jar” caught my eye. Add to basket. Next - “Treats for Tired and Puffy Eyes”. Two hours later, my basket overfloweth. I just needed an investor. I proposed a mutually beneficial deal with the root of my problem, reminding Accountant that Valentine’s Day was looming and I could take all the hassle and romance out of it for him with just one click. I closed by mentioning that if he didn’t comply, he would have to move out.

I now await delivery of my fresh new face. In the meantime, I’ve been using Sudocrem as it used to work wonders on Chickie’s nappy rash. It has dual benefits – not only is it so thick you can no longer see your face underneath it, it would seem that, smelling like a bottom is also an excellent Accountant deterrent.