I don’t need a mirror. I have a 5-year-old with no filter.

When do I know it’s time to go get my color touched up because the red’s turned a bit brassy? When Emma Kelly tells me, “Mommy, you’re hair is orange.”

When do I know it’s time for vacation and/or a trip to the plastic surgeon? When Emma Kelly asks me, “Mommy, why do you have bags under your eyes?”

When do I know it’s time to renew my gym membership? When Emma Kelly is in need of comfort so she cuddles up beside me to knead my upper arm like it’s a Pillow Pet.

Every time she throws out one of her observations, I reply with a not-so-sincere “Thank you.” But I’ve found that sarcasm is lost on 5-year-olds. So last night after I got the “bags under the eyes” comment which I followed up with my usual “thank you,” I tried to explain to my precious baby child that it’s not nice to tell people that they have bags under their eyes. So she asks, “Then why did you say ‘thank you’?”

Touche.