Mrs. Magoo

I’m pretty frugal when it comes to purchasing beauty products. My cosmetic supplier is typically Wal-Mart, with an accompanying coupon. And it shows.

As a birthday splurge a couple of months ago, I ordered make-up befitting the older generation. You know, that gorgeous 60-something year old model who sells a line of makeup called “Boom?” The idea is that older women should actually be wearing less make-up and should never ever wear powder.

I’ll second that. I made that horrific discovery after putting on my 2.5 readers out of curiosity to see what I was really looking like up close.

Powder was not my friend.

I’ve taken to calling my new make-up “old lady make-up” mostly to thwart my teenagers from getting into it. That did not work. I recently found the shimmer tube of my Boom trio in my daughter’s purse. It does not matter that I mark all my personal make-up with a sharpie that says MOM’S. Nothing is sacred.

Cailey celebrated her 16th birthday this week (I know….hold me…..). She is a gifted make-up artist, and for her birthday, she wanted to go make-up shopping at Ulta. I did try to extol the virtues of make-up shopping at Wal-Mart, but she scoffed.

I followed her around the softly lit aisles of Ulta, musing at her knowledge of make-up blenders, highlighting sticks, bronzers, contour brushes, and the like. She had a small laundry list of needs and wants. None of which I’ve ever laid eyes on in the cosmetics aisle of Wal-Mart.

She talked me into purchasing something called “pore filler.” For a cool $13.99. I told her I could get a tub of that stuff for half the price in the hardware aisle of Wal-Mart. I call it spackle. Not amused, she determined that she might borrow my “pore filler” and she would allow me to use her matte finishing spray. To seal it all in. Like an acrylic top coat. Krylon comes to mind.

Cailey informed me that she was going to leave the finishing spray on my bathroom counter so that I could try it out. And so this morning at dark-thirty, I took her up on her offer, reached down and went to town setting my freshly applied old lady make-up. With eyes still closed I wondered, “why is my face stinging?” I put on my trusty 2.5 readers and looked to see what was in my hand. The label on the bottle read “Magnesium Oil.” This is what Fiddledaddy uses to ward off leg cramps at night. I refuse to use it because it burns my skin like the flame of A THOUSAND FIRES. I’ll take the leg cramps, thank you. And now it was on my face.

It could have been worse, I suppose, the travel size bottle of Downy Wrinkle Release was right next to it. But then….

I relayed my experience to Fiddledaddy as he drank his brown hot water (not-caffeinated tea). And then I made the mistake of admitting that I’d also nearly brushed my teeth with Benadryl. In my defense, a travel tube of toothpaste can look very much like the Benadryl tube. If you refuse to wear glasses. Luckily I noticed in the nick of time that the toothpaste on my toothbrush was sickly yellow in tint.

I fear a trip to the eye doctor is imminent.

This could derail my favorite parenting coping mechanism. If I can’t see it, it’s really not happening. But then again, with some groovy new spectacles, I’ll never have to worry about mistaking the wasp spray for Aquanet again.

October 20, 2017

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