Evidently, I Need To Invest In Sephora

As you may remember, Matthew and I spent a weekend dog-sitting at my mother-in-law’s a couple of weeks ago. We drove over on a Thursday night to the small central Illinois town where my in-laws live. There is not much to do there, unless you like shopping at Wal-Mart, so Matt and I didn’t have any plans to leave the house for the entire weekend.

That was fine with me, especially since I tore one of my contact lenses on Thursday night and had to wear my glasses the rest of the weekend. I also kept my hair pinned up on my head because the Yorkie would get on the back of the couch and try to chew on my hair. I didn’t necessarily want Yorkie drool in my hair, so I just kept it up all the time. And since we weren’t going anywhere, I didn’t dress up, either. And no makeup. So I’m sure I looked horrible the entire weekend.

On top of all that, we were in a new place and I was afraid to take a shower. It’s not that I’m scared of new surroundings, it’s that I’m scared of newspaper headlines like “Mom Takes Shower; Child Poisons Water Supply” or even worse, “Mom Takes Shower, Child Releases Wild Yorkie Within City Limits.” I couldn’t take a shower because Matthew would be unattended and who knows what kind of havoc and mass panic would transpire. You have to watch this kid all the time – he knows how to use power tools, after all.  I was even afraid to take one after he fell asleep – why take the chance that he wakes up and locates a blow torch? So I didn’t shower – which is a huge sacrifice for me and made me quite grumpy. There’s nothing I like more than a hot shower at the end of the day.

Very fortunately for me and my personal hygiene, Chris and Brandon came over on Saturday and I was able to get a shower without fear that Matthew orchestrated some sort of national emergency. Or, if he did, I could at least blame Chris for it. I began feeling slightly human again. Finally.

After we returned from dog sitting, Matthew and I got ready one morning to run errands. I had washed, dried and styled my hair, put on jeans and, miracle of miracles, makeup. Matt said, “Mama, you look nice!” He should know, since he is our resident fashion guru.

The next day, we had some more errands to run, but this time, I didn’t put on any makeup. Matthew looked at me before we left and said, “Are you going to put on makeup?” And very stupidly, I asked, “Do I need makeup?”

Then he gave me a facial expression that I didn’t know 4-year-olds could make. It was the “sorry” expression your best friend might get when trying to tell you your breath is bad or you have spinach in your teeth or that outfit is not flattering. He said, “Yeah, Mama, you do.” Nice.

Oh well, I’m not too broken up over it – but I am wearing makeup when I leave the house now. At least he’s not big enough to submit my name to a make-over show – yet.

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One Response

  1. Kids can be harsh, although honest. I am sure that Matt meant that you are even more beautiful with make-up on!

    I can still remember telling mom not to come to school dressed like a bimbo. I was confused and said bimbo instead of hobo. (Like I had ever seen a hobo—I guess I didn’t know the term homeless person.) Either way bimbo or hobo I know I didn’t want her to embarrass me. I must have assummed that she would wear the same clothes she wore around the house to do all the things mom’s do to maintain the household. Let’s face it. When I come home the first thing I do is slip into a old t-shirt and pajama pants. I certainly don’t look like a beauty queen. I am sure I hurt mom’s feelings when I called her a bimbo/hobo!

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