"Yes, in my youth, I was quite a fine specimen," my husband said with a far-off look.

"You've got to be kidding, Dad," our 12-year-old said as he rolled his eyes. "You're old."

Our 'ohana was having dinner around the outdoor table. The camping lantern we were using for light wavered under the canopy. For some reason, our conversation gravitated to the subject of beautiful people. Our boys were describing several "hot chicks" they had seen.

I seized the opportunity to share my wisdom.

"Beauty is not just physical," I said. "It's what's inside that counts."

"Is that why you married dad?" my 12-year-old chuckled.

"No, son, your mother married me for my good looks," my husband said.

There is an 'olelo no'eau that describes a person who is attractive: Ha'ale i ka wai a ka manu. Translated, it means the rippling water where birds gather.

The rippling water refers to a person who has a quiet, peaceful nature, which others find extremely attractive.

The only time I have ever witnessed my husband "quiet and peaceful" is when he's sleeping. He's usually loud, boisterous, irreverent and impulsive. But he's also kind, generous, honest and, uh, humble.

That's what appealed to me most, oh yeah, aside from his good looks.

I remember growing up in the country. Looking different was often a deficit. Neighborhood girls taunted me over the fact that I was hapa-haole.

"What? You tink you pretty cuz you get green eyes?" one of the girls said menacingly.

How I wished for brown eyes and skin that would help me blend in with the rest of the kids in the neighborhood.

"No," I mumbled in response.

I remember the girl pausing ever so slightly to weigh her options.

"OK, den, we go play kick ball," she said. "You go on da kine Charlotte's team."

My best friend, Sheri, originally from Texas, was constantly on her guard. She had long, blond hair, green eyes and chiseled features. All the local boys adored her, which didn't sit well with the neighborhood girls. But her easygoing nature and exceptional mind prevented her from having too many run-ins with the neighborhood tita.

"Just remember, boys," I said. "You see what Mom and Dad look like?"

They both nodded.

"This is what you're going to look like in another 30 years."

"Yes, remember, sons," my husband said. "Beauty may be skin deep, but sexiness is between the ears."

Reach Ka'ohua Lucas at Family Matters, 'Ohana section, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; fax 525-8055; or ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com