I decided to run to a popular cosmetics store to look for a new foundation. I would just assume not wear make up, but years of laying in the sun with baby oil on my face has done a number on my skin. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Then again, our parents smoked cigarettes in the car with the windows up as three kids climbed around the back seat. You live and learn.
It was my 2-year-old daughter that convinced me to go shopping. She recently began counting the number of “bumps” on my face. Although I am impressed at how high she can count it was quite depressing.
I was greeted by a lovely young woman the minute I stepped foot in “the store.” Her chocolate brown hair glistened under the neon lights. Her skin was flawless. She immediately started speaking cosmetology jargon asking things like “What’s your PH balance?” and “What kind of coverage do you want?” I want the kind of coverage that’s going to hide the fact that I have three kids. She offered to “line test” me. I was not ready for a pop quiz. It actually meant she was going to draw on my face to see what color foundation best matched my skin. “You have red, dry, blotchy skin. I think this one works best,” she said and handed me a container of what looked like sand. “This will also help stop the rapid aging process you’re dealing with.” She informed me that there were five additional products I would need to purchase in order to (and I quote) “Actually start taking care of your bad skin.” I wanted to tell this broad off. It’s not like I walked in there looking like Nanny McFee. I didn’t say a word and I didn’t buy anything. I’m going to put on a veil, march to CVS and buy a cheap foundation. Then, I will return to “the store” doing my best Julia Roberts/hooker make-over impression. “You work on commission right? Big mistake. Huge!”