We were ugly children.
It’s not a matter of opinion; you don’t have to say, “Oh, err… no, you were cute.” It’s fine. We accept it and we’ve come to terms with it.
Over the years, we have reflected at length on our ugly childhood. There was the eye patch stage (an optometrist would never have done that to a beautiful kid), there was the no front teeth phase (ugly children lose both their front teeth at the same time), there was the bowl cut phase (was it entirely necessary for Nan to cut our hair?), and there was even the bulky retainer phase (which, in hindsight, was... a good call).
It’s not that we think we're attractive now, but there is a definite improvement. One of us grew into our ears, and the other (pictured above) tragically had Benjamin Button syndrome – she was born an old man and has gradually grown into her skin.
At times it was tough. Our grandmother assured us that we were just ugly ducklings who would “blossom” (she actually said that… she had no deteriorative brain condition to excuse it… she just really thought we were ugly).