When you get to my age, the talk will occasionally turn to wrinkles and what to do about them. When a friend’s daughter asked her if she was going to get Botox like some of the other moms, she replied that she liked her lines and wrinkles, because they told the story of her life. I looked at my lines this weekend, to see when they were most prominent. The ones on my forehead come when I am surprised or intrigued, the ones between my eyebrows when I’m concentrating, confused or angry, but my face fills with lines when I smile. I smile a lot, and it is being etched into my face. I like that story and I’m happy for people to read it.