Don't even go there...

The family primped for a party last night. Which essentially means dad took a shower on a weekend and mom spent an hour in front of the bathroom mirror.

She's usually dissatisfied with the way she looks - if she wears Indian clothes, she wonders if she'll be overdressed in a roomful of casual capris and jeans; if she wears jeans, she wonders if all the other women will be dressed to kill. If the dress code's Indian, she has a hard time deciding between a sari and a salwar kameez.

It's happened to her way too many times to count. She'll arrive at a party thinking maybe she's not looking half-bad, when somebody (usually a woman) will burst her bubble by exclaiming, "You look SO tired. What happened? Are you not feeling well?"

Folks, do me a favor ... if you have nothing nice to say, don't say it (yeah, I know, I would do well to take my own advice, sometimes.)

Believe me, mom doesn't need her dark circles and superfluous facial hair pointed out. So, unless she has broccoli in her teeth or her fly's open, or she asks you how she looks, please, just let her continue living in a fool's paradise.