In Her Mind's Eye...

  In her mind's eye I was a bunny rabbit.  Not just any bunny rabbit, but the most beautiful of bunnies with a healthy pink glow in the cheeks, a soft pink nose, teeth that are perfect...even if they are pink and droop from my bottom lip, and of course satiny pink ears that might as well stem from my eyebrows.  Yes, I was a delightful creation that had sprung from the depths of her boredom. 



see my pink teeth?

  In MY minds eye...well, let's just say I was a sucker...thoroughly enraptured with my five year-old daughter's commitment to seeing this project of face-painting through.  Though I had been swindled into role reversal in a proposal offered to end her despair of "nothing to do" on the fourth day off of school, I delighted in every dip of the paint brush she held in her tiny yet capable hand while I sat in my "make-up" chair and let her work her magic.

  Actually, at this stage in my life letting someone dab one of my softest paint brushes over my face felt so good that I didn't mind the offer to paint butterflies and a duck (morphed into a t-rex) upon my hands as well.  Sure darlin', set your inner artist free.  Mama is your canvas and I am captivated with your confidence as your paint droplets of "oops" become a new creation.  No fuss no muss...complete lack of worry nor need for perfection.  I want to be her when I grow up.

Taaa-daaa!  Big reveal in the mirror brings my widened eyes to new levels of "appreciation,"  while my husband, sons, and of course the neighbor boy are treated to the unveiling of Mommy Rabbit.  "Oh Mommy, you're BEAUTIFUL," Daddy graciously doles out compliments while readying his camera.  I thank my tiny artist and give knowing smiles to my sons looks of astonishment mixed with dollops of hilarity and head to the shower.

  Only, there's no time for shower before a knock on the door announces my Mom's arrival from across town.  "Just in time for tea with the bunny,"  could be my only welcome in such a situation.

  A good hour and a half into our lively conversation my husband takes pity, or so I thought, until he announces, "I just can't take you seriously like this," and heads to the store.

 I marvel at his goodness as he unloads the largest jar of Noxzema and a tidy packet of make-up removal wipes.  Surely this will remove the dyed remnants that mere face wash and water couldn't erase. 

just...won't...come...off!

  Well, six scrubbings and the removal of approximately five layers of sloughed skin returned my comfort level with leaving the house.  My little artist had to get to dance class and I was her ride.  Off we go with her singing and my scarf worn high while my hat is pulled low.  Yet there is still a smile glistening in these eyes.  This is the stuff life is made of and, "Remember when?," stories are born.