Nah, it was me, I said it, just a minute ago. But it sounds like something a wise person would say, doesn't it? That's because it's true, people who can laugh at themselves DO get wrinkles.
In every family there is usually one member who gets laughed at more than the others. In my family, it's me. Having three boys only 3 1/2 years apart makes for a lot, and I do mean a lot, of fights. So anything that gets them laughing is welcome. Even if it's at my expense. In fact, they are at their brotherly closest when it's at my expense. Luckily, over the years I have managed to rack up an impressive list of mishaps, mistakes and general dumb things. And they tend to get laid out with the tablecloth for every special occasion and gathering.
The favourite is my run-in with a roadworks stop/go man several years ago. With each re-telling the story has been embellished until it now has enough action for a Hollywood blockbuster.* By the way, Steven Spielberg, if you're reading this, I think Sandra Bullock would be great for my part, and Hugh Jackman would make the prefect stop/go man. (Although that would change the ending, because if a Hugh Jackman stop go man was running after me, I would have chucked a U-ey, kicked the kids out of the car, and surrendered myself to him.)
So anyway, when the 'Remember when Mum....' tales begin, and I am once again the butt of my family and friends' laughter, I happily join in (hence the wrinkles). Firstly, because they are pretty funny stories, and secondly, I look around and see how happy everyone is, and hear the warmth in their voices and weirdly, I never feel more loved.
For the record, I did NOT mow the poor stop/go man down, he did NOT then use a bazooka to try to 'take me out' and the throng of cars I mildly inconvenienced were not full of hungry zombies. There was a slight issue with the grader, but it was NOT driven by Kim Jong-Un.