I was doing laundry and watching Cake Boss when my six year old daughter decided it was the perfect time for my make-over.
I always sit on the floor to fold, so she plopped down on the couch behind me. She brushed my hair for a while, then she started adding . . . stuff. It started with a thick dose of gel which was glopped and spread all over my head. She combed that out carefully and then clipped in a few plastic barrettes. The whole mass was sprayed thoroughly with hairspray (the nozzle held just centimeters from my head) and topped with a sparkly headband. Gorgeous. And shiny. And heavy.
|It's hard to tell, but this hair is sculpted.|
After the hair, she decided my make-up needed a touch-up. She worked so hard and gave me . . . well, let's just say that I felt, like, soooo pretty! The pictures don't do justice to the amazing technique and the mostly-on-the-lips lipstick.
She added two different earrings (they were both so fancy that she just couldn't decide)
and declared me DONE!
|These pictures don't show the awesomeness of my heavily applied make-up. Dang it!|
(Apparently, she needed some make-up, too.)
I thanked her, we shot a couple of glamour shots and I got back to my laundry. I was in the bathroom putting away towels when one of my daughters ran up to me.
"Mom!" she declared in a panicked voice, "Uncle Derek is standing on the front porch!"