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I have been blessed by the Wrinkle Fairy.

She perches on my right shoulder. I caught her waving her sparkly wrinkle wand at me last week. She was laughing as she anointed me. I frowned at her and tried to swat her off my shoulder. It's not easy to avoid the Wrinkle Fairy when you are married to the Master Wrinkle Maker, my husband, Scott.

I started to take notice that the wrinkle fairy is more active when he is in the room. I follow him around closing cabinet doors, drawers, putting things back in the fridge and searching for his ever-lost keys. He also swears he told me important facts that I never remember hearing come from his mouth.

For instance, he says he told me, "Don't use the American Express card. The balance is getting too high." That afternoon I went out and I charged $214 on American Express. I have no recollection of his conversation about not using that card. I think he is messing with my mind. This makes me wrinkle up as I try to back trace in my menopausal mind. I can barely remember him, let alone an imaginary conversation. The Wrinkle Fairy notices my expressions, and she does a little twirl as she BAM! shakes her wand at me.

When you have five kids, there is always something and someone to worry about. I got extra blessings from the fairy back then. When they were teenagers I'd wait in the cold and dark at 2 a.m. just waiting for them to try to sneak in. I'd be praying, "Dear God, please let them drive up now and be safe….so I can kill them personally!" BAM! …wrinkle fairy is not happy about being awake on a cold, dark night either. She zaps me twice! BAM! BAM!

When my estrogen level plummeted, the wrinkle fairy worked overtime. She almost fell off my shoulder from daily fits of laughter. She got dizzy spinning and bopping me with that wand of hers. I remember thinking I needed to shake her off, but then I'd get busy and forget. This forgetfulness is causing my crow's feet to turn into eagles's claw. My brow is so wrinkled, I feel like that cute little puggle dog, but I'm not little enough for it to be so cute.

Yesterday I went to the grocery store without my list. There was only one item, and I could remember that easily. I went up and down every single aisle trying to remember why I made this crucial trp. I could not remember to save my life. When I got home, I splashed water on my face and when I looked in the mirror, I remembered. I went to the store for WRINKLE CREAM!! My fairy friend is now doing the Macarena on my shoulder.

I made the mistake of telling Scott about this. At 2 a.m. last night he got up to go to the bathroom. I heard him yelling, "Get out of here! Get! Get! Don't even think about it!!" I thought we must have had a water bug or a mosquito. He came back to bed, and I asked him what was in there. He said, "It was one of your wrinkles trying to attach itself to my leg. Don't worry. I caught it and flushed it. You're safe tonight." For the love!!!

My fairy rolled over and covered her ears. It must be exhausting being my fairy. She needs her rest. Who knew laughing can cause so many wrinkles?

My wrinkle fairy and I have made peace. I've decided to embrace her blessings.

By the way, she told me her name is Wanda. I call her Wanda with the sparkly wand. We are now best friends. I'm taking her to lunch today. She is my new best

friend.

BFF forever!

- Anne Bardsley

Anne Bardsley, of St. Petersburg, Fla., is the author of the soon-to-be-published ANZ World…How I Earned My Wrinkles, a collection of humorous and sentimental stories about marriage, motherhood and menopause. She lives in a menopausal world with a husband who gives her wrinkles. When people ask her age, she sometimes tells them her bra size. "36-C," she says, "was a wonderful age."