As a young girl, I often struggled deeply with my self-esteem. One day, standing in front of the mirror with tears streaming down my face, I whispered to my reflection, “Why was I born so ugly?” My father, overhearing my lament, quietly approached. He placed his hands gently on my shoulders and said, “Sweetheart, didn’t you know? Before you were born, I accidentally sent my incredibly handsome looks to the wrong address.

But don’t worry,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “I kept the receipt!” Confused, I asked, “The receipt?” He nodded with a grin, “Yep!

That way, when you turn 18, we can exchange it for something far better—like a magnetic personality so dazzling, no one will care about what you think is ‘ugly.’ Trust me, it’s a much better trade.”

Despite my tears, I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. My father gave me a playful smirk and said, “Until then, you’re stuck with that face—and I have to say, it’s a pretty amazing one.”