Is it honesty, or simple lack of maturity and control that makes it impossible to cover up one’s bad humour?
My mother often quoted to me this poem–I thought it had a special meaning for her, but upon reflection, see that the special meaning of it for her, was me:
"There was a little girl, who had a little curl,
right in the middle of her forehead.
And when she was good, she was very, very good.
And when she was bad, she was horrid."
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
so even your mother recognized your ability to see from one of the spectrum to the other? how appreciative she must have been that your view was not too narrow to capture the entire expanse.
yes, I know this isn’t what you meant. But it IS what I mean.