In certain Eastern spiritual traditions, the “Third Eye” is a mystical concept that represents a space of higher consciousness and enlightenment.

For me, it represents a zit right in the middle of my forehead.

“Nice third eye,” said my husband when I woke up one morning.

“Whaaa?” I questioned, running to the mirror in the bathroom.

“Can you see my future?” he asked jokingly.

“Yes,” I said, glaring alternately at him and the large pimple masquerading as another eye on my brow.  “And it looks very dark if you don’t stop teasing me.”

Why I am still getting pimples at age 56 is a question for those who are far more enlightened than I.

Fortunately, it’s not a regular occurrence. But lately I had been blessed with an on-again, off-again case of “mask-ney” on my chin that, I noticed, would often resemble the constellation Orion or sometimes, the Big Dipper.

While it was sometimes fun to try to find Saturn in my chin constellations, I would really prefer not to be getting wrinkles and pimples at the same time, on my face, in my fifties. I was definitely the oldest person in the drugstore shopping for Clearasil in the zit care aisle.

According to my family, I already have eyes in the back of my head, and the vision of the two in on my face is pretty sharp, so I really did not see a need for yet another eye on my forehead.  I also do not really need a third eye to predict the future, because I already know before I wake up in the morning that the dog will chew up some socks, and my husband will ask me to pick up his dry cleaning.

What can I say? It’s a gift.

I was definitely the oldest person in the drugstore shopping for Clearasil in the zit care aisle.

Since I already had more than enough eyes, and was already somewhat clairvoyant, I decided the new eye had to go, or at least had to get covered up.  I was pretty sure that putting an eye patch over the center of my forehead would attract more attention than just leaving the pimple there by itself, so instead, I decided to cover the darn thing up with some makeup and hope no one noticed.

“How you doin’ there, Cyclops,” said my son who was visiting for the weekend when I came downstairs.

“I’ll have you know Cyclops only has ONE eye,” I told him.

“Greetings,” said my daughter, giving me the Vulcan hand wave.  “Do you come in peace?”

“I guess you can see it, huh?” I asked them gloomily.

“See what, Mom?” said my son.   “You know, my vision’s not as good as yours cuz I only have two eyes.


I gave him the evil eye. All three of them.



Determined not to let this slight imperfection be a blemish on my day, I glopped on more coverstick and went out to run my errands.

Thankfully, most of my morning was uneventful.  But then while I was waiting for my turn to pay at the Pet Store, another customer tapped me on the shoulder.


“Excuse me,” she asked.  “Do you see the Greenies anywhere?”  I looked behind me at the vast assortment of dog bones hanging on the wall and immediately saw one lone Greenie bone hiding behind some rawhide chews.


I plucked it off the rack and handed it to her.

“Thank you so much!” she said.  “You don’t happen to see any Booda Bones, too, do you?”

I looked at the rack once more, and plucked another package of bones off the wall for her.

“That’s amazing!” she exclaimed. “How do you do that?”

I shrugged.  “I have an eye for it.”


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  • Deborah Lohr

    I feel your pain. I am now 61 years old, and occaisonally still get a pimple. I did not go into menopause until I was 54. I thought I would be the only woman to die with zits and cramps. But joyfully, in May of my 54th year, it just stopped. No spotsor anything!! It was like God turned off a faucet. Praise the Lord.I think you are hilarious, and desperately wish we were neighbors. Thank you for the smile you always give me.

    • Tracy Beckerman

      Thanks for giving me hope!

  • Pam Hopkins

    too funny

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