She flicked it with her finger.
“When did you get grandma’s Fluffy Chin?”
The ripples cascaded under my jaw and into my neck. It was that kind of moment every woman dreads.
The double chin, or Fluffy Chin as us Wilson women call it, has been passed down from generation to generation. The fact my daughter had the courage to flick it with her finger showed her naiveté. That kid. She’s lucky we’ve got that kind of relationship.
“I should break that finger right off your hand.”
My daughter laughed like twenty-somethings do. “You know I’m teasing you Ma. It’s really not that bad.”
Really not that bad?!?
She doesn’t understand her day’s coming. You don’t think about these things at her age. It’s not until your fifties you take notice of the extra inherited face fat.
I first noticed last year. The office had an ugly Christmas sweater day. Us Wilson women, along with hereditary fat face genes, also carry a horrible taste in sweaters. My turtleneck was bright red with white snowflakes. Forrest green cuffs embroidered the sleeves and bottom. And stitched smack dab in the middle was an enormous gold bow covering the entire front. It was hysterically hideous.
I may have won the prize for ugliest sweater, but I suffered for it. The turtleneck rubbed my Fluffy Chin all day. Every time I moved my head, it felt like I was dragging a wool blanket across blubber. My chin was that one part of my body I hated the most, and this stupid sweater made it worse.
The idea of having a medical procedure to reduce my double chin had never crossed my mind. The Fluffy Chin was just something us Wilson women had to deal with it. But after visiting the Soco Shaping website and seeing how safe and easy treatments were, I scheduled my consultation.
It didn’t take long to convince me this would work. The treatments took about an hour and that was it. It was much quicker than I imagined.
The waiting was the hardest part. I didn’t tell anyone, and because the procedure was so easy and non-invasive, I started to doubt it had even worked at all.
Until my daughter came home for spring break.
“Where’d it go?”
“Your Fluffy Chin. It’s not there anymore.”
“Yeah. Seriously Ma, what’d you do?”
She was right. My chin had shrunk. When you see your face in the mirror everyday, it’s hard to believe it’s happening. But hearing my daughter, unsolicited I might add, tell me my Fluffy Chin was no more proved it to me.
It’s hard to describe this feeling. I know I’m the same person, but that sense people are staring at my chin had disappeared. I feel so much better about myself.
The Wilson Fluffy Chin might be hereditary, but CoolSculpting is the cure.