Dimples n Dill Pickles

I was born with prominent dimples. My whole life people have been commenting on how cute my dimples are. I have rarely appreciated the attention this brought. I am not one who likes having attention drawn to myself. My dimples have become a part of my identity. They are just a part of who I am. I expect to see them in every reflection, happy or sad. They are always there. I cried after my son was born when I discovered that I had passed my dimples on to him.

A few years ago my age was becoming more evident on my face. I was frustrated with a particular crevice I had grown on my forehead. I think my husband got tired of my complaining about it, so for Valentines day that year he gave me a gift certificate to have it "fixed". How romantic right? I was a little skeptical to have the procedure done, but went ahead. After the doctor was finished he asked if I wanted him to take care of those dimples on my face, as if they were some kind of monstrosity. I was taken aback, not sure if he was serious. He must be joking. Remove part of my identity because it wasn't like everyone else? He referred to my dimples as imperfections. This concept was so foreign to me. All my life I had only been given positive comments about them. And now a doctor was trying to convince me to have them removed! He actually asked if my husband was rich. I don't know if he was trying to make me look better or trying to tighten his greedy little hands around our money. Nevertheless, I did not have them removed and I never went back.

I love dill pickles. I remember as a kid getting a dill pickle from the jar and carefully wrapping it up like a baby doll in a paper towel. I would suck on it like a baby bottle getting out all that yummy juice, savoring every drop, gnawing on the inside and making it last for an hour or more. Sometimes one pickle just wasn't enough, so I would sneak another and repeat the process. We would occasionally go on road trips when I was young and I always made sure I had my stash of dill pickles and celery sticks to munch on. These made the trips more bearable, even through the car sickness and the endless twangy country music stations I was forced to listen to. We didn't have Ipods, mp3 players or dvd players to entertain ourselves back then. My dad loved his country music! And he became a grouchy bear if anyone tried to change the station.

I always ask for extra dill pickles on my hamburgers. I love eating pickles with sandwiches, sloppy joes and especially grilled cheese sandwiches. I have passed my love for dill pickles onto my my kids. Now they love dill pickles almost as much as I do. Pickle breath? Perhaps, but we will continue eating and loving dill pickles.

Dimples and Dill Pickles! Isn't life sweet!?!