The Look
Lyn has The Look.
I'm not talking about her unique sense of style. I'm not talking about an ability to vogue like Madonna. I'm talking about The Look. You know, the one that just screams disapproval even when you're over the phone and cannot see her face. Yes. That one. Lyn has that look. This look:
I'm not sure when she perfected her version of The Look. I suspect she was born with it and has just mastered her use of it over the years. Lyn will whip it out at the drop of a hat, a literal hat, it turns out.
A few years ago, Lyn told me about her new winter pull-over. She was excited because it was soft and very pink. Lyn has a love for red, purple and pink. She'll frequently wear any combination of those colors. Somehow, the fact of this new pull-over sunk into my brain and stuck.
It was getting close to Christmas and I was having a challenging time finding an acceptable gift for her. She's very difficult to shop for and I wanted to get her something other than some math workbooks from the local teacher's supply store. While at a craft fair, I spotted a wonderfully pink fleece hat. It had big flowers and was large enough to fit me. I remembered her new pink pull-over and thought the hat would be a perfect match. I bought it and was thrilled with my find.
I eagerly awaited the call on Christmas day when we'd wish each other well and tell each other what was under our respective trees. I thanked her for her gift to my family and me and asked her about her gifts. She listed everything in great detail except for the hat. When I asked if she got it, she said "Yes" and tried to change the subject. I heard The Look in her voice so I asked her to pass the phone to Mom. Mom proceed to describe how Lyn reacted and how she nearly dropped the hat in disgust. Lyn hated the hat.
I was disappointed. Now, before you think that I was crushed that Lyn didn't like it, let me set the record straight: I was disappointed I was not there to see her reaction first hand. Mom had me laughing over my sister's disgust in the hat. I made her promise to take at least one picture of the hat.
A few weeks later, this picture arrived in the mail:
The hat was also in the package.
I'm not talking about her unique sense of style. I'm not talking about an ability to vogue like Madonna. I'm talking about The Look. You know, the one that just screams disapproval even when you're over the phone and cannot see her face. Yes. That one. Lyn has that look. This look:
I'm not sure when she perfected her version of The Look. I suspect she was born with it and has just mastered her use of it over the years. Lyn will whip it out at the drop of a hat, a literal hat, it turns out.
A few years ago, Lyn told me about her new winter pull-over. She was excited because it was soft and very pink. Lyn has a love for red, purple and pink. She'll frequently wear any combination of those colors. Somehow, the fact of this new pull-over sunk into my brain and stuck.
It was getting close to Christmas and I was having a challenging time finding an acceptable gift for her. She's very difficult to shop for and I wanted to get her something other than some math workbooks from the local teacher's supply store. While at a craft fair, I spotted a wonderfully pink fleece hat. It had big flowers and was large enough to fit me. I remembered her new pink pull-over and thought the hat would be a perfect match. I bought it and was thrilled with my find.
I eagerly awaited the call on Christmas day when we'd wish each other well and tell each other what was under our respective trees. I thanked her for her gift to my family and me and asked her about her gifts. She listed everything in great detail except for the hat. When I asked if she got it, she said "Yes" and tried to change the subject. I heard The Look in her voice so I asked her to pass the phone to Mom. Mom proceed to describe how Lyn reacted and how she nearly dropped the hat in disgust. Lyn hated the hat.
I was disappointed. Now, before you think that I was crushed that Lyn didn't like it, let me set the record straight: I was disappointed I was not there to see her reaction first hand. Mom had me laughing over my sister's disgust in the hat. I made her promise to take at least one picture of the hat.
A few weeks later, this picture arrived in the mail:
The hat was also in the package.
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