Nose twin!

The other day I looked at myself in the mirror and thought: by golly do I have a huge schnoz. I mean it is powerfully wide. Seriously, put it in a tuxedo and it might just be elected president of the world. It’s kind of strange that I’ve missed it all this time. Then again, considering my aversion to mirrors and my deep sense of denial, perhaps not.

The point is that since my startling discovery it is all I see. And, let me tell you, it is panic inducing to realise – completely out of the blue and without a psychiatrist present – that your nose is kind of monstrous.

I was so scandalised by the whole affair that I spent a good 30 minutes looking through old photos in search of evidence that my nose used to be smaller, and somehow exploded with age. You can imagine my astonishment when I discovered that it’s always been this way. Always! And all this time nobody had the decency to pull me aside and say, “Hey Agnes, you bear an uncanny resemblance to a person who had a potato jammed into their face and decided to keep it for decorative purposes.”

Hey friends, what happened? To think all this time I could have been hanging laundry on it or using it as a cooling rack for baked goods. And we’ve already bought a clothes horse, so loads of wasted opportunity there.

But among all of this world-shattering, life-changing stuff, I have discovered a ray of sunshine. Completely by accident (though I prefer to think of it as a calculated intervention by fate), I found something very special. Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet my nose twin: 

She’s just like me but younger, thinner and more tanned.

On second thought, I’m not sure how I feel about this.