My icy glare of disapproval is mighty effective. →[More:]They had free face-painting at the mall yesterday. We're waiting for my daughter's turn when the girl in front of us (probably around 7ish) points to a full-face scary-looking sleestak design and says to her mother excitedly, "I want THAT!" And her mother turns to her and says, "Ewwww! No! You don't want that. YOU'RE A GIRL! Maybe we can have them paint some flowers or a butterfly or something pretty."
I couldn't help myself. I shot that woman my patented "look." Chin down, raised eyebrow with a silmutaneously questioning and disapproving expression. I know it was none of my business, but that kind of stuff bugs the crap out of me. It must have worked, too, because that girl walked out with a full-on green monster face and an ear-to-ear grin.
In other mall-related news, my girlie spent her allowance on a stuffed triceratops she named Moreo Jorje Ranil. But his friends, she says, call him HarshTown or occasionally, Harshville. I do not know why.