chinny, chin, chin

a long time ago (probably about thirteen years ago) my beloved Abuela Nico tapped her aged finger on my chin and prophesied over it. Like the ancient prophet Kalchas she foretold of my doom. "Cuando estes vieja se te va salir bien fea!" she said gesturing with her hand and making a rather ugly sign of what my horrible chin would look like. I thought, "Gee, what an awful prospect awaits me."











fast forward to having two outspoken daughters. As I laid in bed with my girls one night with only the hall light on, my Abuela's prophesy was fulfilled (at least according to my youngest daughter!). I guess she could see my silhouette and she grabbed my chin. "Mom, do you know who your chin reminds me of?" I don't have a clue, I thought. Then she asked her sister, "What is the name of the bad guy that comes out in Cyberspace?" I thought, "Oh, no you didn't just compare my chin to hacker's!"









Ladies and gentlemen,









May I present Hacker.

















But wait! it gets better! a couple of days after that, my little one (yes, the same one that told me my chin reminds her of hacker) paid me a compliment of some sort. and i (with my feelings still hurt) rebuffed it by reminding her that my chin is UGLY! i prodded her, "who does my chin remind you of?" and my older one piped "Abraham Lincoln!"



Ladies and Gentlemen,



Honest Abe.





honestly, if i didn't have a complex about my chin, my girls are going to give me one!