Youngest and I were at Target when we ran into one of the girls old dance instructors, we shall call her Ms. Pam. She is an older lady with a killer figure even though she is well into her 60s. My pudgy self usually feels woefully inadequate next to her. Usually.
So we haven’t seen Ms. Pam in ages and she’s looking a bit changed. As we are exchanging pleasantries, Ms. Pam leans over to greet Youngest.
Youngest blinks and says “What’s the matter with your face?”
I nudge her, “Don’t be rude, Ms. Pam looks lovely!”
Youngest has scooted behind me and is pulling at me to lean down. She then says in a loud whisper, “Something is wrong with her mouth!”
Ms. Pam cuts in, “Oh no dear, it’s just this botox! I just had it done yesterday and it hasn’t settled yet. The little ones always notice first!”
She leans down towards Youngest “It’s just some medicine in my face that’s supposed to make me look younger, sweetie!” She laughs gaily, even as her death mask continues to grimace.
Youngest scoots further behind me and whispers loudly, “She’s laughing but not smiling!”
If I could slap my hand over her mouth I would, but must settle with telling her very firmly that she is being rude.
“Don't worry about it! I’m used to it, dear!” Ms. Pam says as she trills out her bye-byes and leaves us. I'm wondering how you can get used to little children hiding from you in fear.
I turn to Youngest and begin to admonish her for her rude behavior but she is not really paying attention to me, she is still peering around me after Ms. Pam. Suddenly she turns to me and says real seriously, “Mommy that medicine is supposed to make you look younger but instead it makes you look deader. Please don’t ever do that to yourself ok?”
I understand and I promise her that she has nothing to worry about. “Don’t worry baby, when I get old, I’ll just look old, not scary, ok?”
She nods and smiles relieved and says, "Don't forget to dye your hair, Mommy, your gray hair is showing!"
Oh the irony!