Just a bit off the back, please

I have come to the conclusion (or the justification if you want me to be honest with you) that I have no problem with having bits of me removed.  But to not feel like a complete faker, I am drawing the line at having anything added.  It's what lets me sleep at night.  No implants, inserts, or injectables to make my face freeze.

Here's why no implants: there is no room to put anything anyway.  I'm full up.

And the face injections...until the day comes when I don't need to silently let my kids or spouse know the degree of my disapproval with a glance I'll be needing all of those facial muscles.  The wrinkles?  They are like multiple !!!! at the end of my glare to really drive the point home.

What use to me is a constant look of surprise?

The cleverest of the bunch

Little C's fourth grade class does a Wax Museum Biography project in the Spring.  For those of you unfamiliar with this concept I will explain...

The student picks a person to research.
They learn about their life, their work, or whatever else they find interesting about the subject.
Then, on the given day, each kid dresses up as their subject.
They all stand still like statues (a clever teacher could get some mileage out of "rehearsal") until one of the Museum Visitors presses their button.
At which point they Come Alive...in character...and give a 1-2 minute presentation about their subject.

It's a hoot.  There will be your Betsy Ross, your Teddy Roosevelt, your President Obama, your Sacajawea, your Michael Phelps, your Steve Jobs, and so on.  The costumes and the cacophony of dozens of simultaneous speeches in varying degree of enthusiasm...I just love it.

So Little C comes home and tells me he picked his subject.  The little shit sweetheart picked Harpo Marx.  And don't think for a second he didn't know what he was doing.

"What is your plan?" I ask with some volume I won't quite call shouting. "Steal other people's props and honk a horn for 90 seconds?"

His reply?

[smirk]