Sunday morning I was putting on my makeup for church. Cailey stood beside me watching me intently in the mirror. “Mom? Why do you wear makeup?”
“So I don’t scare everyone in church and make small babies scream in horror.”
Okay, not out loud, but I thought it.
With a smile I say, “Because it’s something that mommies do to make themselves feel better. To brighten our complexions. Give us that youthful glow that you have.” Blah, blah, blah.
“To hide all the age spots, past pimple poppings, and deep wrinkles caused by all our children.”
Okay, that last part, again in my head only.
She looks at herself in the mirror. “I don’t like my freckles.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Those are sun kisses from God. Your mamma had freckles when she was a little girl. And your grandma did too!”
I don’t tell her that I didn’t like my freckles either. In fact, after a school mate threatened to hold me down so he could connect the dots, I spent a great deal of my day trying to scrub them off.
Cailey leans closer into the mirror. She points to a large freckle on the middle of her nose. A freckle that had not so auspicious beginnings as a wart a couple of years ago. “That’s the Queen Freckle,” she proclaimed brightly.
The day took it’s toll on me. And my make-up job. Sunday school proved to be particularly stressful with Jensen. And I may or may not have been in tears at some point. That afternoon, I was sitting down to a game of Princess checkers with Cailey. Wearing an ice pack on my head.
Fiddledaddy came in the door, and I turned to greet him. He looked aghast. “What happened to you?”
Innocently I replied, “What do you mean?” He should certainly be use to me wearing an ice pack on my head by now.
“You look like Alice Cooper?”
“Who is Alice Cooper?” Cailey quips.
I get up from the game, threatening Cailey’s life if she should rearrange the checker board. I go to the bathroom mirror, and sure enough, I looked like Alice Cooper. On a particularly bad day. My mascara had failed miserably, and was running half way down my face.
And the children evidently thought nothing of it.
Some mothers long for a housekeeper. I have my sights set on my own personal makeup artist.
But for now, my grocery list will include a new tube of waterproof mascara.
And a carton, or three, of Haagen-Daz German Chocolate ice cream.