Sunday, July 13, 2008
My dad is an attorney. Over the course of a few decades in practice, my dad and his (now retired) partner had many, many secretaries. The main reason they had so many secretaries is that the main qualification they looked for seemed to be good looks. They had incompetent secretary after incompetent secretary. On the other hand, the tough-looking paralegal who has worked for my dad has stuck around year after year.
The cutest of the cute secretary parade was a woman named Chris. I remember her from my childhood. To say she was a dim bulb is an understatement. It was essentially like Jessica Simpson hung out in their office, talking on the phone and such. My dad told her that she'd "better not run out of cute".
A few weeks ago, my dad gleefully told the story of running into Chris at the county courthouse a few months ago. In a conversational turn that only my dad can manage, he mentioned to Chris that she didn't look so good (my dad, at 60, is often mistaken for my brother; I guess this gives him the right to comment on such things). Chris (apocryphally, in my opinion), responded by saying, "Yeah, I guess I finally ran out of cute."
While in full tantrum mode during their recent visit, my dad admonished my daughter not to run out of cute. I had two separate individuals use the word 'exquisite' to describe Lily at church this morning. I do think my daughter is gorgeous. But I don't want her to spend her life worrying about 'cute'. Luckily she has a tough-as-nails personality to go with all that cute.