I kicked back in my chair after a long day, thankful for the opportunity to relax. I pulled out the lap top and began to mull over various topics that I could write about. I was enjoying the peace and quiet at the end of the day with all the kids in bed when my husband called to me,
“Were you doing something with your nail polish remover? ‘Cause it reeks in here!”
I knew there was trouble. I sighed and put my computer away, wistfully dreaming of those quiet moments writing away, and hauled myself to the back of the house. As I approached the kid’s bedroom I heard Paul, “Now, which one of you got into mommy’s make-up?”
I was too beat and defeated to be mad; I just wandered into the bathroom and took stock of the state of my make-up drawer. It wasn’t as bad as I had expected. The lid was off one nail polish and it was spilled over a lot of stuff, and half of my foundation was spilled as well. I dumped all the affected items in the sink and began to sort them out and clean them up. I ran out of polish remover though, so I have to finish later.
No one was fessing up so Paul called everyone into the bathroom where I was cleaning and a troop of three sleepy-eyed girls staggered in. Elizabeth was cleared right away and it was left to Dorothy or Emily. We knew it wasn’t Dorothy when she started proclaiming, “I promise, I promise, it wasn’t me this time!” And Emily finally admitted it was her. She was already crying so hard we didn’t punish her anymore and I think she learned her lesson.
The only things that were really ruined were the make-up brushes. So, it wasn’t so bad. But now I’m wondering, they say things come in threes . . .
. . . so, what’s next??