Let me start out by saying I’ve had no “work” done aside from the sort of work that life does to you via too many late nights and too much stress. Probably the most effective work that life’s done to me is giving me a serious case of myopia which has had the effect of a lifetime spent mostly squinting.
What I’m getting at here folks is that I have wrinkles. I’ve got some lovely smile lines around my eyes, this one weird ass wrinkle that showed up about 3 months ago above my lip, and a super impressive set of Elevens plus a friend between my eye brows.
I am hot. Hot, I tell you.
I happened to glance in the mirror one particularly barely overcast day while I was attempting to drive sans sunglasses and I thought something along the lines of, “Whoa. What happened to my face?” And then Biggest got into the car.
There is no good way to have a conversation with a disinterested teen so these days, I’m trying the “throw random stuff at him.” Sometimes it works. So I say, “I think I should stop smiling so much. Because laugh lines, right?” I thought maybe he’d grunt or something and we’d go back to the awkward silence that is the interminable period between when your preschooler likes you and your college student is sucking up for laundry assistance.
Instead he says, “Actually, you should smile more.”
I was a bit shocked that he answered. And then I processed his words. Frankly, I needed clarification. Which he then provided without any provocation from me. (I’m still counting this as a conversational win, because there were 16 words that he said to me and none of them were profanity-laced nor crabby sounding. WIN!)
“Because you have a bit of that RBF thing going on.”
Now, life with a very, nearly 16yo is all shits and giggles most of the times, but there isn’t much that amps up the humor level quite as well as when your teen accidentally says out loud what they are thinking. You may have had similar experiences where your teen (or perhaps even yourself) had this great thought that somehow escapes the safe confines of the mind and enters the world where it can never be unheard.
Things like “Billy Bob Studmuffin is so hot” or “Those pants look hideous.” Or in this case, telling your mother that she has Resting Bitch Face.
Oh, the backpedaling and flustering that happened right then. I still get a small giggle.
Except that would entail adjusting my RBF into something more pleasant and smiley.
I decided that instead of adjusting my RBF, I would just channel my inner RBG. Because there ain’t no way to not win with that action.
RBG, or Ruth Bader Ginsburg, has been voted as one of the most powerful women, a woman of the year, and one of the Time 100. I personally think she is amazing simply because she has continued to give what appears to be 100% even when facing immense personal hurdles. But mostly I love her because she is brilliant.
Brilliant with a penchant for ascots, of course.
I also would like to believe that RBG doesn’t give two shits if she has a resting bitch face or not. I would like to believe that RBG would simply raise that eyebrow and then proceed to ignore your impudence if you suggested such a thing.
So that’s what I did when Biggest dropped his little bombshell about the unfortunate state of my facial affairs. Then I laughed.
Because it was funny. And I might as well smile more because those wrinkles aren’t going anywhere.