When I was a child, my Uncle George would grab my cheeks so hard I thought he’d lift me off the ground.

“Such a shayna punim,” he’d exclaim with joy. (The term is Yiddish. It literally means “pretty face” but colloquially means what a pretty girl.)

“Yes!” my parents would reply with equal joy.

At 6, I hated Uncle George as I rubbed my aching cheeks, and I hated my parents for allowing this unwelcome greeting. Read more