"Mommy, Audrey has disgusting PURPLE lips," Ryan announced to me.
Oh, no. I know exactly where she is, and what she's doing, and it strikes fear in my heart anyway. I scoot down the hall, asking her to come to me, and turn the corner into my bathroom (expecting the worst) to find her perched on the toilet seat. She's looking into the mirror, wiping her lips with toilet paper. And there's the distinctive color of one of my favorite MAC lipsticks on it. I'm gulping in horror, envisioning that I'll find my lippy in the trash can, or worse, with the tip I maintain perfectly mashed down, but there's nothing there. What did she do with it?
"Where is it? Where is my lippy??" I asked her, still fearing the worst. She points to the jar where I keep them (the ones not currently in rotation, lol), guiltily, like she put it back the second she heard Ryan telling on her. At least she didn't use it to write on the mirror or the walls, and the end of my lippy is not mashed down. I'm so anal retentive about it that my friend Jenny teases me about it, that the tip of my lippy must be maintained in the shape it originally came in. I can't help it, it's so pretty that way. Could I be any more girl than that??
I may let everything else slide, I let the kids play pretty much with all my stuff, but my makeup/lippy are off limits. My purse is too, most of the time.
It's a good thing, because I don't think Viva Glam III will look as nice on the boys as it does on me.