Den-eye-al

Let's be honest, while I gleam with pride every time I hear someone say that the girls look like me, I'm hoping to hear less and less of that as they continue to grow.  It would be unfortunate to walk a 6'3", broad shouldered, square jawed daughter down the aisle while her veil tried desperately to cover her 5 head (too big to be called a forehead) and her perpetual 5 o'clock shadow protruded through her cracking foundation.  While I make a decent looking man I would be the last woman standing at closing time of any local pub.  The 2 at 10 and 10 at 2 doctrine would not apply to me.  But there is one thing I can pass on which won't jeopardize their ability to go out in the daylight. ... my eyes. ... which is ironic because I have a real sensitivity to daylight and have to wear sunglasses almost all the time.  But anyway, my baby blue peepers have no problem transitioning between the genders; looking equally good in eyeliner as they do in eye black.  And, as luck would have it, all three of the girls are blue eyed (although there's still potential for Rosaline's eyes to change, though it's looking unlikely at this point).  Perfect!  While they grow in to beautiful women, just like they're Mama, I'll still be able to look at those eyes and know there's a little bit of Daddy in there too!  But apparently not everyone feels this way.  We have a disgruntled offspring.  You see, while Genevieve is thrilled to point out that she and Arianna and Daddy and Rosaline all have blue eyes, Arianna is somewhat resistant.  She is adamantly denying her blue eyes.  Refusing to admit they are of an aqua pigmentation.  Instead she insists they are "green. ... like Mama".  And god forbid you correct her.  "No Daddy!  No blue eyes.  Green eyes!"  And she is willing to fight you to the death over the subject.  It's actually gotten to the point where she cries over the subject.  I feel bad.  I didn't mean to do it. ... I didn't mean to pass on my eye color.  I'm sorry!  I'm so sorry!!!  I never thought I'd ruin her life.  So I compromise; I tell her maybe they'll turn green later.  That at least subsides the crying.  If not, we'll hope it works like the fashion industry. ... where blue is the new green.