Greek comedy

I grew up in a family with strict rules and a lot of discipline.

You don't believe me? Most of my friends don't, either.

But maybe you will after you hear the evidence.


When we kids didn't behave well, there were no switches used on rear ends, or conventional punishments like being denied dessert (Laura was so bad she once got her mouth washed out with soap-as her older sister, I was puzzled as to why it didn't happen more often). Instead, Mom affixed us with the dreaded Gorgon Eye.

How many children know about the mythical (I hope she's mythical) monster who can turn men to stone with a glance? We didn't need to see a portrait of the Gorgon Medusa. We had Mom.

Turning her impassive gaze upon us, she would quell us with one cold glance.
For such a lively and loving woman, she was really quite good at impersonating a Gorgon. She had phenomenal control.

The only problem was, nobody took her seriously.

When my children get rowdy at dinner sometimes, I try the Gorgon eye. What usually happens then is that they try it on another. Food ends up in odd places, milk gets spilled and general hilarity ensues. Which somehow I think is what my well-bred, well-read mom intended all along.

When I turn my chilly blue gaze on them, I recall my laughing, joyous mother, lips prim, eyes dancing-and then I can't help but smile myself. I don't mind if they forget the discipline-and recall the fun.