The Make-up Artist

“Mom, I’m going to do your makeup for you.” my youngest daughter announced.  I was getting ready to go out with some of my friends and she had been patiently waiting for me in my room.  I was pretty sure she meant business as she was armed with a makeup brush in one hand and a palette of eye shadow in the other.  

I have to admit that I was really hesitant about letting her come near me with that fancy make-up brush of hers.  I was still cringing from the last time she did my make-up for me.  She had been watching a lot of tutorials on Youtube and wanted to give me a high fashion look.  Now, I’m no expert, but in my humble opinion, that particular high fashion look would have fit in perfectly with a brigade of clowns.

Reluctantly, I settled myself down and allowed her to apply cosmetics to my face. After a few minutes of sitting there, patiently wondering what I was going to look like, I realized that she had the heel of her hand pressing against my forehead, holding it against the chair back. 

"Why are you holding my head like that?” I asked her.  “Are you afraid I’m going to escape?”

“No, Mom” she replied, “I’m just pulling up the wrinkles.”  At my gasp of shock she quickly reassured me, “Don’t feel bad, I have to do the same thing for grandma.” 

Gee…thanks kid….

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