Take a Look in the Mirror

It’s funny how our habits change as we age.   When I was a young girl I never passed a store window without checking out my hair…never walked past a mirror that I didn’t primp just a little bit.  Today, I’m just the opposite; with age comes freedom.

My “beauty regime” includes Noxzema, a comb…and my all-important ‘chap stick’.  A quick face wash, tooth brushing, hair brushing and a little eye make-up and I’m on the road again.   I’ve pretty well become a ‘this is as good as it’s going to get’ gal….and I’m okay with that.

I remember once, years ago, a hair dresser (who shall remain nameless) wanted to “surprise” me.  She had always done a wonderful job and, having just returned from a training session, she was full of new ideas.  I reluctantly agreed to let her try something new with my hair.  Keeping my back to the mirror she snipped and slathered and washed and combed and dried while I waited patiently.   When she finally spun me around I had blonde and burgundy hair.  I was sure at some point I had shared with her my belief that hair should only be the colors one naturally finds in nature; evidently she had forgotten.  After I restated the belief she got busy redoing my hair color.   We both learned something.  She learned that purple may not be the best color to use when surprising someone, I learned to always check the mirror!

Just this week I was getting ready early one morning to chauffeur my Mom to a doctor’s appointment.  I got up early and, as it often happens, had screwed around till the last minute to get myself ready.  I grabbed a pair of jeans from the dryer, raked a comb through my hair and grabbed a chap stick I found lurking on top of the dryer.  I had obviously fished it from a pocket before washing pants or shorts.  It wasn’t my usual brand, but it was handy, so I stuck it into my jeans pocket and left.

If you have an elderly parent you know it’s always an unpredictable thing when you take him/her someplace.  Dealing with Mom, her walker, her purse, and anything else she has to have with her at the time (often it’s a huge flashlight?) I juggled our way into the Doctor’s office.    We sank into chairs to wait for her to be called to the inner sanctum.   

As is my habit, I fished in my pocket for the chap-stick; finding it I ‘mooshed’ it all over my lips, then opened my IPad to read while we waited. 

Finally called into the examining room, we sat again.  Once again I pulled my chap stick out and ‘mooshed’ it all over my lips.  The appointment passed without consequence; in a little over an hour I had deposited Mom at home and I headed in to the office.

In my car I pulled out the old ‘mooshing’ stick and….you guessed it.

Finally, I was settled at my desk.  I hadn’t realized it before writing this, but I obviously have a ‘mooshing’ habit…because I pulled the stick from my pocket and spread it all over my lips again.   This time I got some of the creamy stuff on my finger.  It was blue.  A nice blueberry blue…likely full of antioxidants and vitamins…blue.  Pursing my lips I pulled a small mirrored box from my desk drawer and saw that I had been ‘mooshing’ blue stuff all over my mouth for the past few hours. 

With a deep sigh I realized I had spent the morning dashing around sporting a lip color that is generally only seen in people who have been submerged in ice water and are approaching hypothermia.  My lips were a nice, soft, mooshy, cyanotic blue.  I’m amazed a nurse or the doctor hadn’t started chest compressions on me after having a look at my ghoulish lip color!

I’m sure I bought this stick for one of the grandkids; it may have been left behind from someone’s Christmas stocking or birthday gift.  How it arrived on my dryer is a mystery, but it did reinforce one thing I seem to have forgotten:  Always….always…. check the mirror.

 

                                                                Life is Good