Wrinkles

I have a few of them.  Not as many as I will have in the future, way more than I had in the past, but I have them.  Kind of like a bedsheet that somehow gets extra creases in it when you aren't looking.  It starts out all nice and smooth and flat, not a wrinkle to be seen.  Crisp.  But then somehow (and it's one of those mysteries in life like dirt between your toes in the middle of winter when you've been wearing socks and shoes and everything outside is covered with the white stuff) there are wrinkles in the sheets.  Sometimes those wrinkles aren't very comfortable when you sleep on them and leave crease marks on your skin.  Sometimes, like at the bottom of the bed, you don't even notice them.  They are just there.  My wrinkles are kind of like that.  Some of them come from time (like the ones on the sheet), some have come from something hard in life, and some are in places like my bottom, you can't see them, but I know they're there.  I love it when people try to put a good spin on things.  The wrinkles around your eyes aren't wrinkles, their laugh lines (I must have been laughing really hard for a long time to get those ones) or the saggy wrinkles on your gut - they aren't wrinkles, their honour marks from having children (so what's a guy's excuse?).  When everything starts to sag and bag no matter how hard you try to make it do otherwise, what's a few wrinkles between friends?  Besides, since time can wrinkle (remember the incredible shrinking and expanding time theory), why can't a person do the same.  At least that's my story for my wrinkles (too bad time doesn't travel backwards as well, then maybe I'd be back to my fresh sheet form) and I'm sticking to it.