BEAUTY PAGEANT, PART 2

I suppose by now no one hasn't heard about Botox Girl, the 8-year-old beauty pageant contestant in California whose mother gives her monthly Botox treatments. She needs the competetive edge, darn it, and what's an ancient 8-year-old supposed to do with all her wrinkles? Give that little prune face a break. If she wants her body poked with needles full of something that's derived from botulism, then who's to say no? Her mother? Of course not. That might require being a responsible parent, god forbid.

Granted, Botox is not for everyone. I'm 61 and my face has more wrinkles than a week's worth of laundry waiting to be ironed, but would I try Botox? Hell, no!! First off, I'm a cheapskate and would rather my money go toward something more worthwhile, like buying gasoline so I can hit the road, or getting more flowers for the yard. My face is beyond hope. Why bother pumping $$$ into something that is a lost cause?

Second, I'm not too keen about injecting foreign liquid into my cheeks, even if it is to plump and smooth out the crevices of my years. Knowing my luck, I'd be the dumb ditz who is allergic to it and my head would blow up...literally.

Third, I'm not big into beauty pageants, anyway. When I was Botox Girl's age, I was not wearing competitive eye shadow or evening gowns. My idea of a contest was playing softball marathons with the neighbor kids and engaging in orange juice can stilt racing with Beans. Forget being a grade school femme fatale.

But times change, I suppose, and maybe little girls are now more concerned with appearance and trophies than getting their hands dirty and scuffing up their knees. Just because I took pride in all my war wounds doesn't mean that everyone must walk my battered path into wrinkle-hood. But Botox? For a child? In my shriveled up opinion, someone needs to Botox that mother's brain and straighten out her mind!!