As a young girl, I had a hard time with how I saw myself.
One day, while crying in front of the mirror, I asked, “Why was I born looking like this?” My dad, who heard me, came over, put his hands on my shoulders, and said, “Didn’t you know? Before you were born, I accidentally sent my good looks to the wrong place. But don’t worry, I kept the receipt!”
I looked at him, puzzled, “The receipt?” “Yep,” he said with a smile. “So when you turn 18, we can trade it for something even better—like a great personality that will make everyone forget what you think is ‘ugly.’ Trust me, it’s a better deal.”
I laughed through my tears. My dad winked and added, “Until then, you’re stuck with that face—and I think it’s pretty good.
