I have always been told that I have an incredibly expressive face. Hard as I try, I am simply unable to mask my true emotions. Never have been and probably never will. I really wanted to look excited about that third crystal picture frame from my wedding shower or the mystery meat my neighbor brought me our first night home from the hospital. Really, I tried.
If those jeans make your butt look big, I’m afraid I’m not the person to ask if you want convincing otherwise. I may say you look fabulous, but my face gives me away every single time. I just can’t help it. My husband knows the minute he sees my eyes whether not not he’s hit a home run with whatever gift he may be presenting me with. Unfortunately, it’s usually a foul ball and there’s no doubt about it. It’s a curse.
And I think it runs in the family.