It is a hit to one's ego when one's child points out the short comings in one's appearance.
Not that one thinks that one is perfect. Nope. One doesn't.
One just hopes that other's don't notice the myriad of imperfections that one has.
It seems when one is a mother...this hope is deferred.
Today as I reached over to click the mouse and look something up on the computer,
my oldest son, Jack, took notice of my hands.
"Mom, your hands are so vein-y!"
I looked down at my hands. They are vein-y. But I like them.
I'm partial to vein-y hands.
I told Jack, "I like my hands. Both my mom and grandma have vein-y hands."
Jack gave me a sympathetic look and said,
"No offense, Mom, but they look like witch's hands."
None taken, Jack.
Now don't mind me as I put on my pointy cone hat to match my pointy nose.
The vein-y hands just bring the witch look together for me.