Here is a game I often play...typically:
Ask anyone who has seen him and they will agree with my boast that my son is a handsome youth @ 30...he inherited his glowing fair skin from his mom, good height (almost 6') from his paternal ancestors, and his toothy smile from his gran'pa.
On the other hand I inherited my puny physique from my maternal side. At 68 I am dark, average height, grumpy and gray-haired (whatever is left of it).
This noon when our local Supermarket was devoid of customers, we both went in for some shopping and, after entering, we split, he with his basket and I for my Sprite.
Fetching my bottle and sipping it I moved over to the cash counter manned by a short dour girl of around 20 and started chatting her up: about the heat and dust of Hyderabad, the unavailability of Knorr Thick Tomato Soup, poor quality of beans and in general bitching...
She was obviously sullen and unresponsive, saying 'ya' or 'ok' or just nodding her unwilling head about various axes...
Suddenly her face brightened, an inviting glow replacing the bored gloom, and shaking me off as it were.
I knew at once that my son has finished his shopping and was standing behind me with his basket full of goodies.
And I recalled with pleasure our Autocrat's lines:
Sweet was her smile, --- not for me;
Alas when woman looks too kind,
Just turn your foolish head and see, ---
Some youth is walking close behind!
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Alas when woman looks too kind,
Just turn your foolish head and see, ---
Some youth is walking close behind!
1 comment:
Oh god, the mistaken look: happens much too often with me.
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