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"Why don't you smile?"

I'm back from a fun weekend with my parents. Their neighbors threw a retirement dinner for my father, which was good fun. The weather was fantastic, and there was much car-washing. Trip back was some kind of record; not much traffic, and the music kept the speeds tempo clicking along nicely.

Though I must say Connecticut continues, and probably ever shall be, a big pain in the ass.

During the pre-dinner cocktails on Saturday night, one of the daughters of the hosts, a firecracker of 11 or 12 (we'll call her G), was hanging around, bemused by the grownups and skewering their strange rituals. For instance:

People were taking photos (and by "people" I mean my parents), and after someone had taken a shot of me listening intently to a conversation, G burst out laughing and asked me "Why don't you smile??"

"I *was* smiling," I claimed, knowing that I probably wasn't.

"Noooo, you just looked, like, [makes long, frowning face]."

"Well, I was *kinda* smiling."

"[Giggles, more funny faces]"

"[Funny faces, vague protestations in response]"

This went on for a bit, until it was clear to both of us that I didn't have an answer.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on 2005-10-31 at 23:15.

The previous post in this blog was *knock knock*...why, yes, as a matter of fact, I *am* listening to Metallica.

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