Everyone’s a Critic

“Mom, What’s wrong with her face?” asks my 10 year old, L.

“What do you mean?  I don’t see anything wrong with her face,” I say.

“Exactly.  That’s what I mean.  It’s too perfect.  It doesn’t look real.”

“How so?”

“Well, why is she so white?”

“She’s a redhead.  Redheads are very fair.”

“And why is she so, like, shiny and smooth.  She looks like she’s made out of marble.”

“I don’t know.  She’s an actress.  Maybe she’s had some work done.”

“What do you mean, work?”

“Maybe Botox or plastic surgery or something.  Or maybe she eats all the right food and drinks a lot of water and gets massages.”

“How old is she?  She looks young and old at the same time.”

“I think she’s 40.  That’s not so old.”

“It’s not so young either.  Shouldn’t she have some lines or something?  What is that necklace?  That looks kinda stupid.”

“I think a jeweler loaned it to her to wear just for tonight.  That thing is worth millions.”

“Ok, but it still looks stupid, doesn’t it?  Why is it so long?”

 “I don’t know, but she’s very famous and rich and she has people who help her dress.”

“WHAT??  She doesn’t know how to get dressed by herself?”

“Ugh, don’t be silly, of course she does.  She has a stylist who helps her pick stuff out.  The dress and jewelry.  And someone does her makeup and hair.”

“You think she paid someone to do her hair like THAT?”

“What’s wrong with her hair?”

“I don’t like it.  It’s kind of flat on the one side and just looks kind of blah.  It should be fancier or something, shouldn’t it?”

 “I think it looks alright.  She’s beautiful.”

“Hmph.  I guess.”