I can't even pout through my smile.

This morning I was walking on air because 1) the results of last night's presidential election and 2) because my husband is in town and was able to take my daughter to get a long over-due haircut. Last time I took her and had to come home to take a Valium. I am sure the poor, young hairdresser had to do the same. For some reason children like to put on a show for their mothers to express distaste about things like haircuts. A crying, screaming, you are hurting me show, while for Dad they will just sit quietly, sip apple juice, and let the scissors work their magic. For the same reason children learn that squeezing mom's boobs gets them all the attention that they have been looking for, even if it is angry attention, but they never learn how to kick daddy in the nuts.

However, lately we have learned from our daughter's daycare provider/sitter, that we can make her smile by telling her not to smile. Genius! If she is pouty and whiny, we say "Doooooon't Smile!" and she will be in stitches in seconds.

When my daughter arrived home happily chirping about the blue blanket she got to wear as a coat, I struck the following conversation with my husband:

"Where do we buy flags?'

He froze and slowly turned to face me. "What kind of flag?"

I can hardly blame him for this question. I once asked him if it would look weird to fly the flag of Spain by our front door, or if changing our citizenship would be that big of a deal. This time I was serious, "The American Flag. Stripes and stars and things like that."

He tightened his arms around our daughter and started to back away. "What do you want to DO with the American Flag?"

I shrugged, "What do you mean? Fly it outside our door or maybe run down the streets and do cartwheels while waving it."

"Amy," he whispered, "are you proud to be American?"

I tried my best to smirk, but I can't seem to get the stupid smile off my face.