As I was cleaning today I was thinking back to something my husband had asked me. Earlier this week I was doing my nails and, of course, I wasn’t doing it the way any other normal person would. I always get my nail as evenly as possible, but in the process the nailpolish gets on the surrounding skin, too. My husband looks at my fingers and asks, “Is it supposed to look like that? Should you go wash that off or something?”** It was this question that took me to my flashback.

I was six or seven and my family and I were at some friends of my parents’ house. They had a daughter and a son and they were both teenagers at that time. My younger sister and I were still too young to really sit there with the adults and socialize so they took us to Evelyn’s room (the daughter) and said we could play there while they were out in the living room talking. Well my sister and I were always getting into mischief and it really wasn’t that big a surprise what followed: I’m not sure how long after we sat there playing nicely and quietly we began to mess around with Evelyn’s makeup, but eventually we did.

Like any normal teen Evelyn’s vanity had your typical teen’s makeup – nail polish, lipstick and other things. Well I thought it would be so cool if my sister and I put some on and pretended that we were older ladies. Since my sister has always gone along with my ideas (enthusiastically, too!) we went at it. We put make up all over our faces and used her nail polish all over our fingers. I can’t remember if we ruined her Barbies with it too, but it wouldn’t surprise me.

After a while, I heard my mom calling our names. Of course I couldn’t let her see us in our mischief so I ran to the bathroom with my sister and told her to put her hands under the faucet so we could wash off all trace of the nailpolish. There I was trying to rub it off and it wouldn’t come off whatsoever! Feverishly and hopelessly I attempted to wash off that nailpolish as I heard my mom getting closer! My mom, Evelyn and her mother (I think) caught us in the bathroom and my poor mother was really, really angry. I think she also felt bad for us as we tried in vain to wash off our transgression. I don’t remember much of what happened afterwards, but Evelyn and her family still like us so it couldn’t have been that bad. Although, I’m pretty sure we did a number in Evelyn’s room.

So, honey, you can’t wash off nailpolish. :P I learned that one the hard way!

**The reason I don’t mind getting it on my skin is that it falls off in the middle of the night and the next morning it looks like a perfect manicure without all the effort, but he couldn’t have known that. :)