On Saturday I met up with my cousin. I was so excited to see her because she seems to have a hand in all things beauty. I confess she is my go to person when I want to know anything about glam. Now I had been having a small craving for lashes since before my birthday and this seemed like just the time to get them done. Of course she obliged and I was over the moon. My lashes were so nice and I felt so pretty. I think my head might have swelled to the size of the sun. Nothing could take away the pep in my step…that is until Sunday.
My husband and I were in a rush for a new church we wanted to try out. I was shoving a million things in my purse but I could see my youngest daughter staring at me. I should have known right then that something was up. I just assumed that she noticed my lashes. I paid her no mind when I saw her and her sister playing with their lashes in the rear view mirror. I should have paid attention. I wish I had paid attention.
Church was winding down by the time the devastation was about to play out. I was so busy listening to the preacher that I didn’t really care that my youngest was stroking my face. She has this way of being extra tender (her love language is touch) that nothing seem odd about it. That is until she reached up and pulled my lash. Not only did she pull it but she tugged at a few times. I quietly swatted her hand away but she reached up again. “Mama, what is on your eye?” she said to me. I gave her the shush!!!
I’ve got to say that this false confidence I have rolling at times has often come back to get me. This was one of those times. I refocused back on the preacher and put her little inquiry behind me. The mom intuition did not kick in for this one. She reached up once more and pulled hard. Off came the lash. Not only that but part of my real eye lashes as well. I snapped my head down to look at her and the lash. She looked up at me stunned and had the nerve to frown at my eye. She looked back down at the lash and tried to put it back on my eye. I took the lash back. All of a sudden there was something very interesting in my bible, so much so that I needed to keep my head down for the rest of the sermon to examine it.
I managed to get the lash back on. However I could feel it flapping about- something was wrong. I couldn’t get my hands back to the lash because I was now busy holding hands and carrying all of my junk I brought to church. I just hoped that I was presentable. On the way out I noticed the preacher standing at the door. Most of the time I love seeing churches where the preacher still meets his congregation- today was not that day. He shook Hubby’s hand and wouldn’t you know it, he realized he didn’t know him. They struck up a small conversation in which the preacher asked how we found out about the church. My husband, always the honest one pointed back to me. The preacher looked at me and smiled. He stood back a bit and we began to chat. My typical behavior set in,
the kind when I am nervous, I began to look down. I wanted the conversation to be over so bad. I apologized in my mind if I seemed rude but I had this odd feeling that this lash (that had now started to burn my eye) had gone haywire.
Our conversation finally concluded and I bolted for the car. I didn’t want to meet up with anyone else until I could check out this eye. Once we got in and settled down I flipped open the visor. To my surprise my makeup was still nice. However there was an eyelash on my cheek. I could see my youngest in the mirror pointing at me to her sister laughing.