In Celebration of My Nose

Every woman has at least one body part she hates.  I have at least a dozen, but I'll stick to one. 

My nose has always been too big to flatter my face, but not big enough to warrant a nose job.  It is of little consolation that it's straight and not hooked.  Were it the latter, a nose job would have been a no-brainer.  My mother always tried to console me during the turbulent adolescent years by saying, "You'll grow into your nose." 

I'm still waiting.

The one consolation I did have came on a trip to Egypt some dozen or so years ago.  Everywhere I went, I received Egyptian accolades for my beauty.  The guard in the Cairo Museum smiled and said, "Byoo-tee-full, byoo-tee-full" as I passed by.  The old lady attendant in the Museum's rest room caressed my face and waxed lyrical -- I think -- in Arabic.  The young man at the Bazaar paused in his attempts to sell me yet another skull cap I didn't need and asked, "Why you have Egyptian face?  Your face, byoo-tee-full, like Egyptian."

In Egypt, in seemed, I was the semitic equivalent of Christie Brinkley.  I didn't want to leave!

I have long since accepted the fact that my nose will never magically become flattering, no matter how much makeup, good lighting, or self-affirmations I employ.  But that's okay because I now understand God's purpose for my nose:  as a puppy chew toy.

Dogs are my passion.  When I hold a puppy, my heart bursts.  I try to hold a puppy as often as I can, seeking out litters from among my friends, acquaintances, and professional associations.  Invariably, the puppy I'm cuddling sniffs that big, soft facial protuberance and  takes an experimental nibble.  Cartilage makes for good chewing.  He then tries to fit the whole thing in his mouth.  When that doesn't work, he works on the nose tip with the back teeth on one side of his mouth.  Once he realizes how flexible it is, those needle-sharp puppy teeth start to penetrate the skin.  That's when I know it's time to exchange a real chew toy for my nose, lest it becomes lacerated and even more of the eyesore I already think it is.

So now I say, to hell with cute little button noses!  I've found a reason to celebrate my schoz.  So what if it barely fits into my SCUBA mask?  Puppies love it just the way it is.