Swag

I'm not talking the swanky gift bags celebs get at events. I'd be happy with one of those. I'm talking that waddle, that flap, that droop of extra flesh that appears under your chin as you get older.

My greatest fear.

Ok, not really my greatest fear. That would be either cancer or mental illness. Or something tragic happening to one of my kids. Or another violent attack on NYC. Or divorce. I could go on and on here. But of cosmetic changes that come with aging, chin swag is at the top of my list.

My grandmother had a swag that was so pronounced it was literally another feature on her face. It moved independently, flapping back and forth when she talked oroved her head. I'd gently stroke the top of my neck to make sure I wasn't developing one.

(pausing to check right now)

I'm still clear. I've got wrinkles in my elbows, grey eyebrow hair, I'm breaking out, have slight sprouting on my toe knuckles - all pusical manifestations of aging I was in the dark about. But, for now, I'm swag free.