True story: Were running late, as usual, waiting on her to exit the house. The boy and I are sitting in the car, in the driveway, watching her dig through her purse as she opens the door and falls into her seat, applying makeup as she fastens her seat belt. Ugh...I HATE changing purses. I cant find anything...Ive lost lipstick, eyeliner, chapstick... She leans forward towards the mirror, doing her voodoo with her lip liner while I glance in the mirror at the boy. He and I roll our eyes at each other. I look at her as we back up. New lip gloss? Its darker than your other stuff. Ive distracted her for a moment from her latest frustration. I know! I love it! Do you like it? Of course I do. Shes wearing it. We motor on towards our destination. Fast forward into the evening. Weve made our connection with a number of couples, the trending topic for the ladies being the common catastrophe of changing purses, and the new, darker look for her lips. The night draws to a close, and we get into the car to head to one last stop before home. She begins to dig through her purse, and I can smell the frustration building. Whatcha looking for, babe? She shakes her purse, the contents rattling around as she finally draws forth a small pencil. This is the biggest pain! All I need is my lipstick... She pulls the cap off the pencil, and pauses. She peers closer at the lip liner, then reaches up and turns on the dome light. She gasps. Oh. My. God. I look at her. This is eyeliner. Ive been putting eyeliner on my lips all night long. I know better than to laugh. I really do. But I cant help it. I laugh. Moral(s) to the story: 1) Only own one purse 2) Read the labels 3) Never, ever laugh at makeup malfunctions. Ever.
Posted on: Sun, 04 Jan 2015 22:13:00 +0000
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