the squintings of eyes and curves of lips.
The expectant countenances.
Those are not mere happy faces.
Those are devious faces.
I’m their mama. I know those faces.
Let me interpret —- those girls are smiling gleefully at their Daddy, who took their picture WHILE he drove up our driveway. He took this picture from INSIDE the vehicle, while his daughters lay across the hood on the OUTSIDE of the vehicle.
Those girls are smiling big, partly because they think their Daddy is fun, and partly because they can’t wait for their Mama to see their picture and have a few words with their Daddy.
They know I will look at him severely. Beyond that, they are not sure whether I will frown silently, say a few choice words or bodily attack him and wrestle him to the ground. But they know I will respond in some way that will indicate their big, strong, manly Daddy is in trouble.
I think there must be something amusing, satisfying and relieving all at the same time to recognize that even their perfect Daddy must fall under Mama’s censure sometimes. And that he handles it so well.