Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Making Up is (not so) Hard to Do

At my parents' house this weekend, Samantha decided she'd had just. about. enough. of hanging out with us boring grown-ups downstairs, and left, Android tablet (with the internet access shut off, of course!) in hand, up to our room for a little peace and quiet. 

Now, with Samantha, there's rarely true peace and quiet.  If she's reading, she still reads out loud.  If she's playing a game, you can generally hear either the game, or her talking about what she's doing.  If she's playing with her dolls, she's having long, drawn-out, detailed conversations with them.  So when she went upstairs, I was still able to hear her. 

Until she slammed the bedroom door shut.

I gave her a few minutes, respecting her privacy (as much as any 6 year old should have), until I realized just how quiet it really was.  Then I called up to her.

Under ordinary circumstances, she would have readily called back.  But not this time.  I gave her another chance, calling to her once more to tell me what she was doing.  And, realizing that she was in a room that was not hers, that was actually full of someone else's stuff, it dawned on me that the reality of the situation was that she could be doing just about anything.  Which would not be good.

I made my way up the stairs, terrified that all I could hear was complete. silence.  Opening the door, I saw that she was lying, face-down, on the bed, the tablet on the floor by the door, still on, waiting for her next move in the game on the blinking screen.  I walked over to her, asking her to sit up for me.  That's when I saw my pink Coach makeup bag, out of our overnight bag, sitting on the floor, mascara, blush, foundation and lipstick containers all spread out around it. 

And she was lying on a white, quilted, decorative pillow.  Crap. 

Sitting up, she revealed the new her to me, mascara streaking her left cheek like an 80s New Romantic pop star, lipstick dotting her right, pillow miraculously untouched by the carnage, a look of mild fear on her face.

And after a stunned pause, I laughed.  And she grinned, no doubt relieved. 

Me:  Samantha, are you allowed to put on my makeup?

Samantha:  Noooo.  I'm sorry, mommy.

Frantically, I patted my pockets for my cell phone, which, unfortunately, was left on the kitchen counter downstairs.  I guess I should have been more forceful, but when I asked her if I could take a photo of her makeup, she said no, and I let it go, instead leading her into the bathroom to clean up.  So, my apologies to you for not capturing the moment.  But I did think about it.  Guess that's gotta count for something.

What is it with little girls that they feel compelled to play with their mommies' makeup bags, anyway?

Keep in mind, this is not the first time this has happened.  At home, any time she goes into the bathroom I share with her, shuts the door and does not make the legitimate tinkly sound of peeing, I get suspicious, and have twice now caught her in the act there over the last 8 months or so.  I really can't get mad, though.  It's too cute, and such a typical rite of passage for any child, be it boy or girl.  I'd like her to remember the moment fondly, too (while still aware of my displeasure).  It's a delicate balance, but one I think we've sorted out pretty well. 

Could be worse, right? 


Anonymous said...

My 7 year old did that once when she was three. Got my makeup all over the carpet and bedspread. She got yelled at pretty bad.

wendy said...

Claire has just found my makeup drawer the other day and I yes I have to listen carefully if all is quiet in the bathroom!!!

my family said...

its just a part of growing up I used to get into my moms makeup all of the time. next time you realize she is quiet grab the camera before checking haha

Rochelle said...

Absolutely could be worse. I'd take it. Too bad you didn't catch it on film, however my guess is that you will one day soon ;)

Karrie said...

I am dying laughing right now!! I just wish we could have seen the damage done!! Too funny!

Cindy said...

Oh yea, I remember those 'rites of passage'! Too funny! Thank goodness the pillowcase came away unharmed!

Zoey's mom, Heather said...

And all I was thinking as i was reading, until I heard otherwise, was I NEED to see a picture.

I loved this you know. cuz I love and adore, feisty and impish little girls. A lot.

krlr said...

I was just laughing with someone the other day about leaving the house all sweet 'n innocent and then glopping on the black eyeliner in the girls bathroom during jr high. If it makes you feel any better I am really, really grateful there aren't any pictures of me from that lovely era (at least not anymore, not after I've purged).