Rhonda was staring at her reflection in the mirror. She’d decided she didn’t like the mole to the left of her nose. “It’s so ugly.” She lamented. Her mom, folding laundry in the hallway, overheard her and poked her head into the room. “What’s so ugly?” “This hideous mark on my face.” Rhonda grumped and pointed at it.
Mom came in, setting the laundry aside. She peered really close at the mole, suddenly leaned over, and gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek. “I like it, because it gives your face character.”
Rhonda pushed her mother away half-heartedly. “You would think that. Besides, character is a nice way to say ugly.” She smiled though, liking her mother’s attempts to cheer her up. “I have a couple of my own. You tend to get more as you get older.” Mother sighed and leaned in toward the mirror. She tugged at the fine lines near the corners of her eyes, frowning. “You still have beautiful eyes, though.” Rhonda remarked. She’d always loved her mother’s green eyes. “Mine are boring brown, like most everyone else in the world.” “That’s what contact lenses are for.” Mother winked. “Besides, you have warm, chocolate brown eyes. They are like hot cocoa, and they are anything but boring.” Rhonda scrunched up her face. “What about my nose!” Mother snorted. “It’s not bulbous like a proboscis monkey or anything. It fits your face. Why are you running yourself down? You have a unique, beautiful set of features. Stop agonizing over little details and enjoy your youth and beauty already.” “I just wish I was prettier is all. Some of my friends are so gorgeous, and I feel plain next to them.” “We can’t all be super models, dear. Even so, you are uniquely you – there is no one else in the world that looks like you.” “Thank goodness.”
Rhonda joked. Mom frowned. “You have a nice mixture of dad and me in you, and I don’t much care for hearing you knocking your looks. You are amazing.” “Alright, enough mushiness, mom. I won’t complain anymore, but can I dye my hair at least? I’m tired of blonde, and I’m thinking about going brunette.”
Mother groaned and fled the room. “You finish the laundry; I’m done trying
to cheer you up!” She called over her shoulder. Rhonda laughed and did the laundry, but she couldn’t help but think about dyeing her hair. Red might even look good…