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The Case of the Puffy Face

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Even before I looked in the mirror, I knew my face was puffy. It might have had something to do with the fact that I could feel my cheeks touching my eyebrows, or maybe that my lips felt like they were the size of eggplants. I knew some women paid good money for lips that looked like mine, but at that moment, I suspected it was probably not a good look for me.

When I finally did take a peek in the mirror, I realized it wasn't just regular old "I probably slept on my face" puffy. It was more like "I look like the Pillsbury Doughboy" puffy. It was clear something dramatic had happened while I slept. It was like the tooth fairy had taken out a hit on me.

"What happened to your face?" my husband asked when I emerged from the bathroom.

"What do you mean?" I said, feigning ignorance.

"You're all, um, puffy."

"Oh?" I said. "I hadn't noticed."

 

"Really?" he said.

"OF COURSE NOT," I boomed. "How could I not notice that I woke up looking like a popover?"

He backed up slowly out of the bedroom, realizing this was one land mine he did not want to step on.

"Call the doctor," he shouted from the other room.

...continued

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