I’m contemplating never wearing make-up again.
Yesterday morning, I sat on my bed, putting my face on when my two girls walked in and jumped onto the bed. And they kept on jumping, wriggling, bouncing, screaming, arggh!
“Hey! Stay still or get off my bed!” I yelled. Bouncing continues.
“Mummy, is that your eyelash thingy,” my 3 year old asks. I look at her, a small teasing smile playing around my lips. When did this one start talking that she knows how to say “eyelash thingy”?
“No, it’s called mascara.” My 5 year old responds.
They start picking through my make-up and naming them. “Ooh, lipstick, eye shadow, eye liner…”
The fact that my 5 yro and my 3 yro know what lipstick and mascara is, is a little scary. Maybe I’m over-reacting. My mom didn’t wear much make-up, so I was never interested in it until I was well into my teens. Even then, it had seemed like face paint that only made people look ridiculous. Of course, I know now that it looked ridiculous only because we (“I”) didn’t know how to apply it properly. But now, with over a million YouTube videos online showing you how it’s done, some of us (okay, “me” sheesh) now know how to make ourselves look more sophisticated (I hope!). Anyway, these same YouTube videos are teaching my kids how to apply make-up too! And I blame Anna and Elsa, damn you Frozen! >shakes fist at imaginary characters<
“Mummy, when can I wear make-up?” my 5yro asks.
My smile slowly disappears, now I’m concerned.
“Never!” I respond, a little too loud. Her face started falling, only two seconds to meltdown, fix it quickly! Once she starts crying who knows when she’ll stop. I sigh and draw her into a hug.
“You have a beautiful face, you’ll never need make-up.” She looks up and studies my face. I can tell what she’s thinking.
“Okay, maybe when you’re older.” I say quickly. Next thing you know she’ll be telling her friends her mummy is ugly and that’s why she needs to wear make-up, cheeky monkey.
“When I’m 20?”
“Yes, and you will have to buy it yourself. With your own money, when you have a job.”
“Will I have to drive there by myself? Aw aww, that means I can only wear make-up when I’m 100.”
“Well, you can take the bus, but yes, I agree, 100 is better. You can wear make-up when you’re 100.” My smile is back in place; I let out a deep breath and give myself a mental fist-bump. “Way to go, mummy”