![]() “Actually, I’d like to put an apple in your mouth and roast you on a spit,” I say. I know he didn’t get a chance to finish reading the article he was on. ![]() He lowers his gaze to a newspaper and flicks the page. “Did I do that right? Are those the words you’d like to put in my mouth?” I want you to go upstairs right now and paint yourself unrecognizable.” He arches his eyebrows. Your hair’s an embarrassment in its natural state and your face is so anti–female beauty that if you go out like that, I’d insist on you walking backward and ten feet away from me. “Because I’m not pretty enough the way I am? I suppose you’re embarrassed to bring me around your family unless I conform to society’s impossible beauty standards for females?” ![]() “I suppose I should take three hours to curl my hair, too, right?” I make my voice tremble. “You’re implying that I’m not presentable in public unless I have a full face of makeup on.” ![]()
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