Last night, my teen, in her best teen anguish voice, said, “Why can’t you be medium?”
“You’re either acting like a six year old or you’re hovering like a granny. Why can’t you just be medium?”
I thought her complaint/request was the funniest thing I had ever heard. I laughed and laughed. That made her mad, mad, mad. So I gulped back my chuckles until all that remained of my mirth was a wee smile, a wry smile, perhaps a Mona Lisa smile.
Onlookers have wondered for years about what caused that wisp of a smile on Mona Lisa’s face. Perhaps she, too, had a complaint/request from a family member. “Why can’t you be more bland?”
And so she smiled because she was delighted she wasn’t.