On reflection, I would rather be a mermaid

IT’S just as well I’m not particularly sensitive. I can take things on the chin. Which one of the chins, I’m not sure. I hate mirrors with a vicious passion. All of them. Full-length, hand-held, you name it and I avoid it at all costs.

I was getting my legs waxed the other day and hadn’t noticed that there was a full-length mirror at the end of the bed. I was reading my magazine and suddenly looked up and saw myself in close proximity. Full length from the feet up. Sweet Jesus. I let a roar of pure anguish out of me and the beauty therapist asked me did I want an eye mask. She’s hilarious. Above my walloping thighs loomed my gut and shortly after that, my copious chins. I didn’t even have time to suck in my stomach and cheeks. Deflated would be the best word for me when I left with my silky smooth legs.

And then later that night, my beautician sent me a link which was meant to cheer me up — to an article about whales and mermaids. It would appear that whales are happy creatures with lots of friends like dolphins and seals, and a fantastic sex life. They swim around happily all day and travel to fantastic places. They sing very well and are loved by all.

On the other hand, mermaids don’t exist and if they did, they would be miserable and confused with a non-existent sex life. Are they human or fish? So the message is — it’s better to be a whale. Now when you get a message like that, regardless of the fact that it was meant in the nicest possible way, it’s difficult not to take just a tiny bit of umbrage. I messaged her back to say I’d prefer to be a confused mermaid with no sex life.

I hope she has covered the mirror for my next visit.