Brushed Out

You learn something new every day, right? Well, at least I do.

Here's what I learned just lately. I was at a facial party thing with a bunch of lovely ladies. It was my turn to have a facial and the woman who worked with me cleaned my face, applied lotion or some such substance, and then she took out a teeny tiny tool that looked like a miniature baby bottle scrubber, and...what?!?!...brushed my eyebrows.

Yes, she brushed my eyebrows. Now maybe you've heard of this odd ritual, but this was a new one by me. I mean I never even knew there was a need for such a thing. My eyebrows weren't unruly. They weren't even tangled. I had no idea that there was a problem.

But she sent me home with not one, but two, eyebrow brushes. Clearly she detected a need. I hope you'll take a moment to notice my lovely coiffed eyebrows.

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The Kid Makes me Wonder if Honesty is the Best Policy

The kid is always asking me why I talk to strangers.

Well, today the answer was, "Because you farted in the elevator, and it was really potent, and I thought that lady deserved to know what she was getting into."

And what did that lady stranger say?  "I'll be fine."


Can't say I didn't warn her.

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Wakey, Wakey!

Apparently there's a right way and a wrong way to wake up my kid when there's something he and I need to do over the weekend.

Here's what I do (AKA "The Wrong Way"):  I walk in, tap his shoulder, tell him it's time to wake up, pull the covers down a bit.

Here's what he does:  Ignore, ignore, pull the covers back up, zzzzzzz.


Later that day I am told what I should do to wake him up:

"Do something repetitive and loud until I get up and make sure you're a distance away so that when I thrash around kicking and hitting to make the noise stop I don't hurt you."


Well, now, that was a very helpful suggestion.

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Adorkable

You know when you're being goofy because it's pretty much the only way you know how to be?  Well, my husband came up with a new term for that...and he used it on me.

"Adorkable"

Yup, a perfect "adorable" and "dork" combo plate.

Good to know at forty-six that I'm still darn adorkable.

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Avalanche...Liquid Style

You know how when you're drinking out of a cup and it's filled with a bunch of small ice cubes and you tip...tip...tip it till the last bit of water starts running toward your mouth and then suddenly ALL of the ice smacks you in the face?

Well, when you're a hot tea addict like I am, something kind of sort of like that happens.  At least to me it does.  You know how when the bottom third of your tea has cooled because you've been busy doing other stuff and you go back to it because you want to drink the last of it and the teabag is still in there because you're milking it for all it's worth and you tip the mug back and the tea starts going toward your mouth and then the teabag flops right by your mouth and then all the tea floods around it and it sloshes around the sides of the teabag and spills over your cheeks and down your shirt soaking it and your bra?

No?  I do.  Me neither.

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Booting the Ball

Sometimes things come right back and get ya.

That's what happened to me this morning.  About a week or so ago Dave and I had to keep telling, and telling, and telling our little guy to "STOP BOUNCING THAT BOUNCY BALL IN THE HOUSE!!!" about a thousand times.  The kid is solidly unable to stop once he starts.  And this has put bouncy balls in the "Most Annoying Toy Ever" category at our house.

Anyway, Dave and the kid were wrestling on our bed over who would keep the ball.  Dave got it, subtly passed it to me, and lacking anywhere else to put it, I casually dropped it into one of the cowgirl boots that reside by my bed.  And then I forgot all about it.

Until this morning...when I grabbed those boots, took them to the living room, reached in each of them to make sure my supports were in the right spot (Hey, I have old lady feet and those feet want their creature comforts!), and my finger hit something entirely unexpected.  I yanked my hand outa there lickety split, clearly avoiding retouching the biggest cockroach that ever lived, and tipped my boot, thus sending the ball bouncing once again.

And then I hid it in a better spot.


P.S. The picture below is not a reflection of how I felt...it's how the ball felt!  I'm just playing with some different emotions in my art.  Me?  I'm happy, happy.  That ball is hidden great!

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Can't make this up...or maybe I can.

I had the occasion to wear make-up for the first time in forever yesterday.  And I'm not counting the times I've worn make-up on Halloween or the very occasional dance performance.  Those don't count.  Anyway, I realized that morning that the only make-up I had was some very old Mary Kay I'd bought about fifteen years ago...it was still fine, but it was just blush and eye shadow.  I had an old, old mascara...a big no-no, right?  I mean aren't those things breeding grounds for bacteria over the years?  And I'd given all of my lipsticks to my mom when she was in the hospital not too long ago.  So, the mascara was tossed and the Mary Kay stuff set aside somewhere where I wouldn't forget for the next few hours, and I headed off to Target.

And I was clueless.

I meandered around the make-up section, both unsure of what I even needed and determined to find products that weren't tested on animals.  Not the best combo for a quest in a big ol' mainstream store.  But there it was, amongst the Revlon and L'Oreal, a brand made exclusively for Target that does not test on animals (Let me go on ahead and plug Sonia Kashuk since I mentioned those other guys).  I was half-way there, people.  And then the guesswork began.  I picked this and that, tossed them into my bag, and headed home.

Where I discovered a couple of new-to-me things.

1.  Eye liner comes sealed for my protection...so sealed that it took me about ten minutes to get all of the sealing off of the darn thing.

2.  Mascara (all of them?) comes with a little eyelash comb.  I had no idea that eyelashes ever tangled, but I went on ahead and combed mine, by golly.

3.  Lip coloring things have remarkably little sealed for my protection stuff.

4.  Wearing make-up is kinda fun.

I even did my hair and wore my contacts.  Had a real girly moment, people.  Might just be inclined to do it again sometime.

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It was TERRIFYING!

I had a terrifying experience recently...TERRIFYING, I'm telling you.

Here's what happened.  I was being a super nice mom, you know, like I am almost always, and I was letting my little guy (he's only fifteen) drive my car in a big ol' virtually empty parking lot for practice.  OK, so yes, that is terrifying, but only mildly so.  What was terrifying is this.  Just a few moments after pulling into the parking lot and switching seats with my kid, I looked around and it was obvious, so very obvious, that the five or so cars moving about in said parking lot were also being driven by beginner drivers.  Yikes!!!  We were not alone!

The other cars weaved about, they stopped abruptly, they parked in spots in a most crooked manner, and I went on and on and on about staying away from them...far, far away.

If I may brag just a bit, my kid did not weave, he stopped abruptly only once, and he parked perfectly.

...and while he was completely comfortable, as is his style, I was a nervous ninny.

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