Yesterday, while picking The Chosen One up from school he announced that he had a cut on his forehead. I informed him that I already knew about it, given the small scrape had been there since last Friday, a result of roughhousing at a friend's house.

He was shocked. He had no idea he'd had a cut on his forehead for the past four days. A classmate had pointed it to him earlier and he assumed it was brand new.

I chuckled to myself. To be seven years old and have no conception of your appearance. I mean, I look at myself in the mirror at least 40 times a day, studying every line and blemish. Man, he is so innocent.

So right then and there I resolved to make sure that he will be just as neurotic and self-conscious about the way he looks as I am about the way I look. Who does he think is, anyway? George Clooney?

This post is dedicated to maple syrup.