Tween’ing

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So, Carsten is a tween now.  Tweens are more challenging than I remember.  Or maybe tween girls are more challenging than tween boys?  Or maybe I am just OLD.

Recently Carsten decided to give a little neighbor girl a makeover.  She considers herself an expert on all things beauty now…. evidenced by her make up,hair and basically being a human being in general tutorials on youtube.  If you have seven minutes of your life that you never want to get back, you can watch it here.  I have no idea who watches these videos so many times.   Someone who doesn’t mind if some brain cells die while she is busy showing you how she brushes her teeth.  ANYWAY.  This particular time she gave the makeover victim recipient RED eye shadow.  With MY make up brushes, which by the way she is forbidden  from using.  EVER.

So, days later and totally unaware, I use my make up brush to apply some CREAM eye shadow.  Except upon application, it isn’t cream…. it is PINK.

Because she never cleaned the brush she was forbidden to use.  She is stealth like that.

Soooooo, then I:

  1. Swear
  2. Scrub eyelid.
  3. Scrub brush.
  4. Find new brush.
  5. Forget to scrub the top layer off of  the cream eye shadow.
  6. Eyelid is pink again.
  7. Swear.
  8. Scrub eyelid again.
  9. Find different new brush.
  10. Scrape top layer of eye shadow into the trash.
  11. Try again.
  12. Eyelid is still pink.
  13. Swear.
  14. Convince myself eyelid is pink because of all the scrubbing.
  15. Swear.

Just then Carsten walks into the bathroom.

Carsten – Oh!  I loooveeeeee your pink eye shadow!!!!

Me – (teeth clenched)  It isn’t PINK.

Carsten – It looks pinks!!!! (Smiiiiilee.)

Me – (TEETH CLENCHED)  IT. IS. CREAM.

Then I:

  1. Swear.
  2. Tell myself my eyelid is cream.
  3. Find alcoholic drink.
  4. Go sit outside with my neighbor Kelly.

Kelly – I am really loving your pink eye shadow!

Me – GUUUUU-ARRRRGH!

 

 

Also, now she has started borrowing my clothes, jewelry and scarves.  She doesn’t fit into too many of my clothes (YET.  Help me Baby Jesus.) so she mostly borrows scarves.  I love my clothes.  A lot.  So I tell myself:  It is JUST a scarf.  It is JUST a scarf.  It is JUST A SCARF.

She comes home from school the other day and hands me a heavy plastic sack.

Me – What is this?  Your gym clothes?

Carsten – Oh that?  That is your scarf!  (smile!)

Me – (alarmed) My scarf??

Carsten – Yah.  I dropped it in the toilet.

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