Not waving, but drowning.

Published September 5, 2010 by Claire

Today, I ventured into my darling daughter’s bedroom.

For those who haven’t raised an eyebrow at this, I must supply a little background detail.

The daughter in question is almost 14 years old.  She lives in a state of perpetual motion, brought about by the constant necessity of searching for things she has misplaced in her bedroom. I have considered changing her name by deed poll  – to Stig. And no, I don’t mean that secretly she wears a white boiler suit and drives an Audi R8 at 120mph  around a racetrack whilst attempting to keep her identity a secret from everyone except her publishers. I mean, she lives in a dump.

So, I went into Stig’s room. The reason for this almost unprecedented display of British courage was that Stig, having lost her own tweezers (in the Dump) had mounted a covert dawn raid on my make-up box and appropriated mine. I had an appointment with a gentleman and I didn’t think he’d appreciate looking down during fellatio and catching something resembling Denis Healey gazing alluringly up at him.

I pushed open the door – using a fair amount of brute force to dislodge the drift of detritus that had gathered behind it. The scene before my eyes reminded me of those snow globes you can buy – you know, there’s a little village or similar inside and you shake it like mad and it snows… Stig’s bedroom looked like a giant hand had lifted it and shaken it madly. I proceeded with considerable trepidation towards the desk, where I could see a smeared surface which was once a mirror and what appeared to be the entire contents of Coco the Clown’s makeup chest strewn around. My tweezers, sadly, were nowhere to be seen. Ever played PickUp Sticks? Where you have to lift something without dislodging the rest of the pile? I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and lifted a mascara wand…

I kid you not, dear reader, I escaped from the resultant avalanche by the skin of my teeth.

On a plus note, however, I bought myself a lovely new pair of tweezers this afternoon, and entertained the man in the car behind me by plucking my brows at every red traffic light.

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