For as long as I can remember, I’ve thought I was funny-looking.
I’m not the only one. The second she clapped eyes on me, Tutti, thought I was pretty funny-looking too. And once she realised that any criticism of her new baby sent The Goat into paroxysms of rage, my chicken-legs and I had no chance at all.
It didn’t help much that when I was a baby, my mouth was so small, Tutti couldn’t even fit a teaspoon in it. Instead, she fed me with a miniature coffee spoon, that looked like it belonged in a dollshouse.
Here I am at my most poodley, on the day of my Batmitzvah. My dress was made out of a crocheted tablecloth. Clever!
I’ve had hair like a poodle, ill-executed fringes and once, a trim so severe that Matty nicknamed me Perry, on account of the fact that I looked like a Peregrine Falcon. The day I came home from that traumatic haircut (during which I had soap dripped in my eye, was stabbed in the back of the neck with scissors and had the bleeding wound rubbed at roughly with a dirty towel which was full of someone else’s hair clippings), Matty took one look at me, inhaled a small crumb from the sandwich he was eating and choked.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. Being funny looking means that people smile at me in the street. A lot. Someone once told me that I look like a bird. Possibly on account of my generously proportioned beak. No need to worry. I won’t peck you with it.
Side profile, to show off my resplendent beak. I’ve known eagles to be jealous, but whatevs. They can always have surgery. (Check out my false eyelashes!)
To be honest, (although each to their own) I don’t really understand why anyone would rather choose their nose out of a surgeon’s catalogue, than enjoy having a characterful conker on their face. I’ve always thought there was something strong, friendly and reassuring about a substantial schnozz.
It’s a nose that says, “Trust me. I’m nice.”
I used to think my nose looked like it would be at home on the face of a muppet. In fact, I still do. But I’m not complaining.
Muppets are cute.
Separated at birth?
