Once upon a time, a girl was born. Not in a fairy-tale, in Slovakia. The girl had a loving Mom and a caring Dad. And the Dad had The Chin. The Chin was passed down generation after generation. It is a double chin. No matter how thin you are. No matter how much you torture yourself with various excercise, starting from push-ups, Ace Ventura grimaces... sex even. Nothing helps. But. One day the girl grew up (okay, not one day, of course it was a slow and gradual process, but it sounds more dramatic) and escaped the world full of Toys and friendly, yet aesthetically unpleasant Chins. She travelled to Syria where the Chins are proud and sharp since Sargon the Great, the founder of Akkadian Empire. She "waitressed" in Malta, where the Teeth are really bad, but the Chins are okay AND tanned. She went to Russia where both weather and the Vodka are cold and thus the Chins are hiding under a constant cover of thick beards.
Yes, the girl saw many beautiful Chins, beautiful and slender as if they were carved by some cool Italian rennaissance architect. She envied a lot. And then she realized that everytime she looked in the mirror to check if the double Chin didnīt multiply itself, she remembered her Dad. And her Grandma, also suffering from The Chin. Her Great-Grandma, who was born to Slovak immigrants in America who later decided to return to Slovakia to turn invisible and to keep reproducing The Chins (another interesting story ). And the girl was suddenly... proud. Because it is important to have wings to fly... but it is also important to have roots that remind you of a place where you have a home. The Home and the similar Chins.