Today was the last day of school and we teachers walked our primary kids up to the senior section of the college to watch a talent show. It was pretty good as far as talent shows go and I enjoyed all of it.
“You didn’t look too enthralled with the show,” commented my friend Lee-Lee when we were sitting in the staffroom later on.
“What do you mean?” I asked, draining my coffee cup and staring at the bottom wishing there was more.
“Well, every time I looked over at you Pinky, you were scowling at the stage,” she said. “You looked as though you wanted to rip out your throat in boredom.”
“Really?” I was shocked. “That was probably just my Bitchy Resting Face,” I shrugged in disappointment.
I’d been trying to look encouraging and animated the whole time so I was surprised she thought I looked so sour. I deliberately kept the corners of my mouth upturned and my eyes twinkling in a merry, kindly sort of way. Possibly though, I’d looked as though I was sneering or something.
Then it occurred to me that maybe that’s the reason why some people take an instant disliking to me.
Perhaps that’s why the deli lady didn’t want to serve me the other day.
Maybe that’s why I never win anything or get any awards for anything. It’s why I’m never nominated or remembered… it’s why I’ve never managed to talk my way out of a speeding ticket.
It’s my demonic BRF. It puts people off.
I’m not much of a laugher either. Not many people can make me laugh out loud. Scotto can, especially when he does his South African veterinarian/Northern England miner impersonations, but he savours those moments when I giggle uncontrollably because they’re so rare. Usually I just nod my head in acknowledgment if I think something is hilarious. It’s awful that I don’t laugh. I love people who laugh all the time; I’m drawn to them, especially if they laugh at my jokes, so why can’t I laugh?
I know… BRF.
It’s why I love social media. I can write, ‘LOL, LOL, LOL! Rolling around the floor! Just spat out my coffee! Lol!’… even if all I’ve done is breathed out a subtle, ‘He he he’ and smiled a bit.
Inside I’m lolling though.
At school, my teachers would often put down their chalk, interrupt their lecture and say, “What in God’s name are you frowning at Pinky?”
I wouldn’t be frowning at anything. It was just my earnest ‘I’m paying attention’ suck up look.
Some people look like they’re smiling all the time. People with protruding teeth and dimples always look happy and friendly. The thing I fear the most is that my face is only going to get worse as time marches on and gravity really gets a hold. I’ll be known as a disagreeable, bitter old woman when all the time on the inside I’ll be laughing and smiling in hilarity.
We were having a class general quiz the other day and one question I asked my ten year olds was, “What country does Lego come from?” (Answer is Denmark)
One of my favourite tiny terrors piped up with, “Legoland!”
It struck me as highly amusing and I burst out laughing in great hiccupping guffaws.
The class just stared at me in horrified fascination. I don’t think they’ve seen me laugh at all in six months. Their little eyes were bulging and I think they thought I was choking or having some kind of old lady convulsion. Slowly they began to smile when they realised the miracle that has just occurred. Mrs Poinker had laughed.
I suppose the only solution is surgery. I need to have a couple of huge choppers implanted and then it would look like I had a permanent smile.
What do you think? Do you laugh out loud a lot? How’s your resting face?
