When I was a tween (and no, the word “tween” didn’t exist back then, but it does now, so please let’s move on) I wanted to be Molly Ringwald. This was before TMZ and Twitter and “Stars Are Just Like Us,” so I really knew almost nothing about the actress. I just liked the idea of being Molly Ringwald as written by John Hughes.
I didn’t look like Molly. I didn’t dress like Molly. My parents never forgot my birthday. No one ever asked to borrow my panties. And the hottest guy in high school never wished me a happy birthday while the two of us sat cross-legged in front of a cake.
The only thing I could try was making bitch faces. I honestly thought — as a tween, mind you — that they made me look cool and Molly Ringwald-esque. So, as a girl, I scowled and rolled my eyes.
But, I don’t think I ever got it right.
Yesterday, my kids were being naughty. They weren’t listening. And they were running around in a place where they shouldn’t have been. I got mad at them. The bad news (more for me than for them) is that I took away their screen time indefinitely.
The good news is that yesterday I think I got the Molly Ringwald bitch face right.