Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
My kids. Man, people love my kids. Have since the very first one. Seriously, look at this kid:
I have literally had one person bring others over to look at her and see how pretty she is. Another time, I was eating lunch at a Thai restaurant, and the waitress wanted to hold her and then walked around the restaurant with her to show her to everyone else who was working there.
Just yesterday Erik and I were out at lunch with the youngest two and the people sitting the next table over made a point to tell us a) how cute the girls were and b) how well-behaved they were.
But this isn't a direct compliment to me, which I think is what this is supposed to be about.
I get compliments here and there. Somehow, as a teenager, I got known for being nice. I suppose that by never talking to anyone I was able to hide my misanthropy.
Sometimes I'm complimented on my writing, sometimes on my singing, sometimes on my legs, quite frequently on my hair.
You know what got Erik the brownie points? He skipped over the most, ah, outstanding aspect of my anatomy and complimented me on my lips. Thereby becoming the second person--and first straight man--to do so.