Eyebrow Incident
It never fails. As soon as I leave the house to go on my ritualistic Wednesday night date with my husband, little fingers pry open my makeup drawer and rearrange its contents until it looks like the aftermath of a typhoon. When I come home, there’s the usual barrage of denials, but one glance at my youngest daughter’s eyebrows, and I knew just where to cast the blame. Uh huh. A huge swash the size of Connecticut was missing from her eyebrow. It looked like she was trying to plow the back forty with a McCormick Reaper only she mistook her brow for a cornfield. The tiny red hairs on my eyebrow trimmer did little to let her off the hook, however. She was pretty persistent with her denials. She claimed she accidentally cut her eyebrow when she was cutting chives with a chef knife for me the night before. Wow, I guess that knife really got away from her! Or she tends to express her zeal for cooking with dramatic arm gestures. Hmmm. I had my doubts. Anyway, the truth finally spilled forth when I told her I was not going to give her a ride to school until she set the story straight. Barely in the “nick” of time, too!