From time to time, over the past several years, I have mentioned to my First Wife that I’d like to do something about it.

“It” being the myriad broken capillaries spreading over much of my upper legs like a road map.

On just about each occasion her response has been that they “come back” and having it done would not be covered by our insurance. The girl is financially practical, and consistently so.

When recently she was up in New England visiting our older daughter and her family (three wonderful grandchildren), I mentioned in a phone chat with my Beloved once again my interest in pursuing the matter.

Her immediate response — immediate — was yet another reprise of her previous sentiments.

Well, when she was back home she happened to tell me she didn’t mean to sound quite so, well, emphatic.

That’s when I offered that I really would like to at least have a consultation with a doctor to find out more about the procedure.

Quick as the speed of light she said, “Well, if you’re going to do anything you ought to do something about your ears and your red nose!”

Silence. The look on my face must have clearly conveyed my surprise. Shock.

And then — she couldn’t seem to help it — she started laughing. She managed, finally, to say that she really didn’t mean to come out so, uh, forcefully.

Shoot. What could I say? So, I started laughing, too.   Why not?

You see — yes, you can see — my ears are a bit prominent. Sort of like our president’s. And my nose seems a bit reddish, on occasion.

As for the ears, becoming thinner of face during my aging process seems to accent the, shall we say, “angle” of these appendages. Fact is, I’ve become thinner all over, and I’m about 15 pounds less than I was as a young man. It happens.

(But not to most people, if you know what I mean.)

Maybe the most cost conservative approach to my desired cosmetic improvements would be to always wear long pants, wear earmuffs and wear a surgical facemask.

Or just stay home.