When I was born my 7 year old at the time sister asked if I was Italian. Because I came out with SO MUCH dark, thick hair. We're Irish and German, no we're not Italian, no I'm not the post man's daughter, I just got the only strand of hairy dna in my entire ancestry. So if you're anything like me there is no doubt to the question 'If you could have only one thing while stranded on a deserted island what would it be?' umtweezersduh. Not that I'm prideful, but more that my rescuers wouldn't mistake me for a gorilla. AND if you're anything like me then you know there is no light like natural light. Not even halogens. So basic "if and only if" math says 'if you are hairy and only if natural light is suitable to do a thorough job then you tweeze in the car.' No doubt.
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| these are the things I learned in college. ie to be super woman |
Unfortunately I didn't think of that when Jamie the tow man towed my car and all 4 sets of tweezers away. To it's final destination. Well, no, actually just the car shop. But 4 days for my face is final destination.
Yesterday emerging from the shower my two year old said, "Peppy pooooped." This sort of um, shit, throws me over the edge. So I went into our family room to find it. No where to be found. No where. But it stunk to the high heavens. Then I saw it: smears on the couch. I nearly lost my head and Peppy nearly lost his life when I decided that some fresh air would do us good. (after wooliting the um, shit, out of our couches and scrubbing them.) So we walked to Walgreens. On the way I realized Peppy was covered in fecal matter. We dropped Peppy off at the groomer to get bathed. Then picked up 2 sets of tweezers at Walgreens. Then went to Pizza Hut for dinner. Then walked home.
So friends, I'm happy to report that our house smells fresh, Peppy's ass is fresh, my face is fresh and I'm a new woman. All with out a car.
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| thank you Duquesne. For making yesterday possible. |
would you mind telling me what the hell kind of picture has you in a half top!?
ReplyDeletedude, when my parents forced me to leave my public school and go to st. rose in 6th grade, a certain boy came up with the fond nickname for me of "ch-ch-ch-chia". and what do you know, everyone else picked up on it. being the rare italian girl in my class full of a whopping 20 students, whose eyebrows contained more hair than an entire pre-pubescent boy's body, i later developed an obsession with plucking. you don't want to know what extreme lengths this obsession went to but if it ever seems like my eyebrows resemble a cartoon character's, you'll know that i got a little over-zealous with my daily routine of plucking while on the can. whoever invented these little metal pinchers that we call tweezers is a genius! tweezer-inventor, you have saved this hairy little italian girl's life!
hahahahahhahaah you pluck on the can. ohhhh and i thought i was the vulnerable one for writing this post. lol.
ReplyDeleteoh and that was halloween in 05. (?) we took a 4 year old super hero's outfit and cut it with spandex on the bottom and superhero on top. hellllz yea.
Ahhhhhh-mazing. From both you and my dear sister in law.
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