Face Full Of Herpes
This is it. THIS is the peak of perfection that I've been waiting for.
For six and a half years, Alexis has been both a night owl and an early bird, which is to say HOLY CRAP, KID. GO TO SLEEP. She doesn't need sleep. Never has. Probably never will.
But, finally. Now. NOW is the moment when all of the mornings that a short person stood breathing an inch from my face, willing my eyes open with her evil early bird mind are starting to pay off. NOW is when she is finally waking up all by herself at the exact time that I need her to be awake.
It has been a glorious first month of school. Alexis has woken up on her own at nearly exactly the right time every single day. She has been getting herself dressed and fed and completely ready each and every morning without assistance or prodding.
Bliss.
(Excuse me while I go run and knock on wood that it continues despite this obvious internet jinxing I'm doing...)
(...And I'm back.)
Perfection has led to efficiency and that is why I noticed. As I stood in my bedroom rummaging in the dresser for a pair of socks, I realized it had been ... a while. It had been a good five minutes since the short, curly-haired creature who calls me "Momma" had flittered across my path. I last saw her brushing her teeth in the bathroom, but why was she still back there?
"Alexis, what are you doing?" I called out.
"Nothing!" she instantly responded.
"Get out of stuff and get downstairs," I told her. It wasn't that I knew she was getting into stuff, but OF COURSE I knew she was getting into stuff. She's six. It's on page three of her instruction manual on how to act six.
When another minute or two passed without flittering, I walked back to the bathroom to scope out the situation. Alexis stood in the middle of the room, her hands completely covering her face as water dripped from between her fingers.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Nothing!" she replied through her hands.
If there was a word that I would ban from the English language if given the chance, "Nothing" would likely be in my top three.
I thought nothing of the drippy kid. I assumed she had been washing her face. She is in a hardcore Imitate The Momma phase right now, so that made sense. I turned on my heel and marched downstairs, reminding Alexis that it was time to get out of the bathroom and get her butt in gear.
It wasn't until much later that I figured it out. As she and I stood outside in the bright afternoon sunlight, I realized that she was even more of a glowy, sparkly creature than usual. In fact, she was downright shimmery.
Pro tip: If you're going to get into your mom's glittery eye shadow, don't cover your entire face in it. Glitter is like herpes and you can't just wash it away.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Reader Comments (6)
Well there's an attention-grabbing title. Seriously, though--being covered in sparkly eyeshadow can't be worse than the time I decided to use my mom's lipstick on my brother...as eyeshadow and blush.
and I immediately flashback to when my 10 year old boy was a baby surrounded by teenaged, pre-teen and a 6 year old sister all enamored with glittery, shimmery sprays, lip gloss and how the glitter was EVERYWHERE...even on places on baby boys bodies (who just eat, sleep and poop) where it should not be. If he would let me check, which he won't because he's 10 I bet I would STILL find glitter.
Love this!
I call glitter the devil's dust.
Oh my gosh, the title of this post! I didn't know what to think - ha ha!
I was once banned from the Toad's Cub Scout Christmas craft pack meeting because of glitter...apparently they were still finding it a year later. The boys loved it, I don't see what the problem was. It was a very large, very boring room before that!
i might have killed her. it is a good thing i don't have kids. silly page six of the manual on how to be six!