My dimple: A theory

I have numerous theories. This is one of them. They range from downright absurd and some that make perfect sense, well at least to me they do.

I have a dimple. Yup that’s right, perched right on my left cheek, making its appearance every once in a while to express happiness, excitement and shyness at times, is my precious dimple. I was born with it so I never gave too much thought to it. But as I grew up I realized not everyone has dimples. I was special. I'd admire my reflection for hours on end. Practicing smiling in different ways, different angles to see which angle highlighted it the most. I could see my dimples winning me accolades… “And the award for the best dimple goes to…” don’t blame me; I wasn’t good at anything else to get awards. Then, I saw HER.

I met a girl who had dimples on BOTH her cheeks. Damn. There went my source of pride, my illusion of being extra special shattered. “And the award for the best dimples goes to…sorry kiddo, yours aren’t that good next to hers…” Not only did the girl have dimples on both her cheeks, but that bitch, ummm girl got dimples even when she spoke, unlike mine that made their presence felt only during times abovementioned. I was depressed for days.

How could god be so unfair? Dimples. They were one thing I prided myself for.

And like any teenager, I found a way to blame my parents for it. This is where my theory comes into the picture: my father has dimples. On both his cheeks. My mother doesn’t have any. My brother has one dimple. I have one dimple. So you see it’s a logical conclusion-my father’s dimples were distributed equally, fairly between my brother and me. Goddmmit. It’s not fair. First, he gets to be the younger kid; then he steals my second dimple. I grudge him.