Saturday, October 01, 2011

Yet another story I'll treasure once she's older...

"Ayyyiiieeeeee!!! Mommy! Mommmmyyyy!!! AHHHHHH!!!! Ow! OW! OWWWWIIEE!!"

"What?!? Where are you?!? What's wrong?!?"

I dashed about my house, cursing its open-floor-plan which completely messes with the ability to judge the direction of sound, especially in a crisis.

I finally discovered my howling daughter in the upstairs bathroom, face buried in a towel, screeching with the force of forty owls.

"There's something in my EYYYEEEE!!!!"

"Ok, ok! Let me see! Let me... Let me SEE, Corinne!! I have to SEE your eye to help you! Here, let me pour some water in it!" I pried and pried but she held that towel TIGHT to her face. With the faucet on full-force, I attempted to Macgyver a few handfuls of water into the crevices of her forehead.

And then, in a moment of weakness, the towel slipped forward and her face was revealed.

Only it wasn't the sweet little face of my 5 year old daughter. Because my daughter doesn't normally have jet-black circles all around her eyes. And MY daughter generally is of a peachy complexion, instead of the mottled brown and black that covered the person in front of me.

"What were you doing?!?" I asked as I dumped cup after cup of water into her eyes.

"I...I....I.... was trying to be a ZOMMMBIIIEEE!!" she wailed.

Yep. Mascara and eye shadow found in the recesses of the bathroom cabinet were apparently too much of a temptation for this kid and she had used an entire tube on her face to get just the right effect of spookiness around the eyes. Once she realized just how much shit she would be in if she was discovered, she tried to wash it all off on her own and accidentally got a massive glob of soap in her eye.

What's killing me about it all is that if she had just ASKED, I would have let her play in that make up! It was really old and I don't care about it at all! But, because this is a recurring theme with that child, I had to send her to her bed early and without a bedtime story.

Sigh...

As I was tweeting about it (because, DUH, I am not going to NOT tweet about THAT!), I was interrupted by a sniffling apology:

"I'm sorry, Mommy... I don't know why I can't stay out of your things. I just like them SO MUCH! I promise I won't do it again!"

Ohhhh, Corinne. If only I could believe that promise!!
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