Make a wife beautiful

“Look at this photo in the newspaper. Her eyes are so droopy.”
“You’re one to talk. What about your wife sitting right next to you? Is there anyone in the world with droopier eyes than me?”
“My wife’s eyes are droopy in an intellectual and natural way.”
With hearts in his eyes, my husband looked at the newspaper and said that, and both of us—me, who believed him, and him, who said it—were just two peas in a pod.

To be honest, my eyes are very droopy. I know I need to lift the sagging outer corners, but once I fix my eyes, then my flat nose won’t match, and what about my sagging cheeks? There are too many places that need “repairs.” Just thinking about it wears me out, so I let time pass while I stress over it, like a levee cracking little by little outside our house.

Sitting in front of the mirror, I lifted the corners of my eyes and asked my husband,
“Should I fix them or not?”
“Do whatever you want. I’ll cover the cost—go ahead and change your face completely if you want.”
Then my older kid, overhearing us, jumped in:
“Mom, don’t touch your face! What’s wrong with your face? I don’t like girls who get plastic surgery. If you get work done, I won’t even eat with you.”
“What does eating have to do with anything?”
“You won’t feel like my mom anymore, and I’ll lose my appetite.”

That reminded me of a story—about a woman who flew to Seoul to visit her family and didn’t recognize her own mother at the airport because her mom had plastic surgery. Worse than not recognizing her, she said it felt awkward to look at her mom’s face—it felt like she was just some random lady.

“You’re no better,” I told my older kid. “What if your girlfriend got plastic surgery?”
“I’ve seen her baby photos. She looks exactly the same. I always ask to see childhood pictures before I start dating someone.”
“Well, aren’t you picky!”

My younger kid, who has droopy eyes just like mine, looked unimpressed by all the fuss and rolled his eyes.
“What about your girlfriend? Hasn’t she had work done?”
“I don’t care. If she wants to fix something, that’s up to her.”
This kid used to win comedy awards at school—not academic ones. But now he’s all grown up and acts so serious that it’s hard to talk to him about anything.

In any case, I’ve decided to fix my eyes. My husband once said my face and body look like they belong to different people. I’ve worked out for years and kept my body in shape, so hearing that pushed me to make up my mind. I’m not sure if he meant it sincerely—but still.

But where should I go? There are so many plastic surgery clinics. A friend’s husband is a plastic surgeon, but mine says not to go to someone we know. He says, 

“It’s not volunteer work. If you pay a friend to fix your house and something goes wrong, you’ll hold a grudge forever. Same with surgery—if something goes wrong with your face, you’ll blame your friend.” 

really should go get it done before my eyelids sag even more… but where?