I Was Born With a Resting Bitch Face – Chapter 11 – It Runs in The Family

My kid was born in the same city I was.

At four, she moved to another country.

At nine, to Canada.

She was raised bilingual, just like me.

Then came daycare and three years of school in her third language.

Then English.

Two years ago, I decided Mandarin would be a great idea.

Don’t ask me why.

I have no explanation.

And this year, she decided to add Spanish at school.

Herself.

So at least now I have fewer reasons to blame myself.

For the languages, anyway.

Because she didn’t really have a choice in most of that.

And apparently, she didn’t have much choice when it came to her face either.

Turns out, you can inherit a resting bitch face.

And growing up around me probably didn’t help.

Now, I would love to tell you more about my daughter.

But she’s a teenager.

And I’m not allowed.

If you have one at home, you understand.

If you don’t, enjoy your freedom of speech while it lasts.

I’ll tell you just one story.

A boy at school was trying to find something to talk to her about.

You know, small talk.

He tried.

She listened.

Then, with a completely blank expression, she informed him:

“I don’t do small talk.”

And walked away.

That’s it.

Conversation over.

I believe the poor boy may need therapy.

Am I taking responsibility?

Absolutely not.

Well.

Maybe partially.

I did raise her.

And I may have contributed a little to the facial expression.

But I’m definitely not paying for treatment.

At least now I know one thing.

My resting bitch face isn’t going anywhere.

It’s already in the next generation.

And apparently, this version comes with even fewer words.