Last night I went to see Mean Girls, starring Lindsay Lohan and Tina Fey and written by Ms. Fey. It was amusing – not Heathers-level quality, but with a kinder, gentler, more after-school-special message than the '80s satire.
I had an odd experience: I suddenly realized that if my wife and I had a daughter, she could end up looking like Lindsay Lohan.
Maybe it’s because I was already thinking about relatives, since Tina Fey reminds me of one of my aunts.
Maybe it’s because I have kids on the brain, since my wife and I are discussing having them.
Maybe it’s the age difference – I’m twice the girl’s age, technically old enough to be her father.
Maybe it’s because Lohan, like my wife, is a vivacious redhead.
But it was…weird. As has been discussed on these boards and elsewhere, Lohan’s sexy and seventeen, but as soon as my brain made the daughter connection, she became a lot less sexy, flaunted cleavage or no.
Now, I grant you that any daughter my wife and I have is unlikely to look quite as good as Lohan, unless said hypothetical daughter has a team of Hollywood makeup artists and costumers at her beck and call.
Neither of us has green eyes, though, so good luck with that, daughter-to-be. And given that my family has no redheads in it, the red hair is unlikely in the real world, which is a pity. But if you blended our faces and gave her my wife’s hair and body type, well, it’s vaguely unsettling is what it is.
Has anyone else ever had someone remind them of someone else who you’d never even met yet?
