“Notice anything odd?” Tracey asked me as Miss3 ran off to join her siblings.
There’s always something odd to notice at our house, but in this instance I thought I knew what she meant.
“You mean how she’s getting really bushy eyebrows?” I whispered to my wife. “It’s like they’ve sprung up overnight.”
There was a pause which I now realize was Tracey trying to work out if I was taking the piss or not.
I’d arrived home from work today and was met with the usual attack hugs. I don’t know for sure how people with one kid know they’re loved but I just count the bruises. I demanded the kids get off me and go down into the backyard to water the tomato plants – they took off, eager to beat each other to the hose and thereby get first crack at drowning the plants.
Before they’d run off I’d glanced down at my second youngest daughter and thought to myself, ‘The poor thing is going to have my eyebrow. I’ve never noticed that before.’
What I’d seen was that Miss3’s eyebrow was really, really hairy. And while I couldn’t remember ever thinking this before I similarly couldn’t ever remember thinking it wasn’t hairy either. This happens a lot. It’s kind of the cornerstone of my parenting technique.
Not that I was especially bothered by what I saw either – I knew exactly what to do about this little problem.
You see, you wouldn’t know it to look at me now, but I came into this world with a horrible and disfiguring birth defect which is only unnoticeable now as a result of years of expensive and careful cosmetic surgery – read as, I had a mono-brow and used to have the middle bit vigorously waxed.
“She’ll be able to wax it,” I whispered to my wife. “I’m not worried. I’m surprised you are actually. I mean look what you’ve been able to do with your legs.”
“Put your glasses on,” Tracey said to me, and she called Miss3 over so I could have a clearer look.
It turns out she wasn’t turning into a mini Frida after all, she’d just gotten into Tracey’s makeup and drawn on some eyebrows with waterproof eyeliner.
Which is a shame because I’d briefly entertained the lovely idea of some father/daughter time together when she’s older, going to a salon and sharing a bowl of wax.
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Bruce Devereaux hangs out at his Big Family Little Income Facebook Page
”Raising a family on little more than laughs.”
I was a Personal Care Assistant ( aged care) I worked with people with Memory issues in high care. One of our residents got into our office and used permanent marker to draw her eyebrows on , can we say Grouch Marx ? The day her family were to take her out for her birthday lunch……..following week same lady used toothpaste as. Face mask during the night ,that stuff sets hard , interestingly the family that missed lunch visited her that day. Uh huh fun.
Okay, for the record, if I live long enough to do these sorts of things to myself I insist I be taken out to lunch and paraded around and generally enjoyed as much as possible. Part of me is wondering if I even need to wait 40 years for a toothpaste facemask 😉