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Getting Noticed

Some days, like today, I get a wild hair.

Real wild.

And I take a minute and a half to doll up with all the make-up I own.

As in…

I sharpen the last third of the 99 cent, brown eye liner I found underneath the front seat of the car and I lean real close to the rear view mirror and start drawing on myself with a wobbly hand. While I’m in the garage.

And it’s effective.

In its own way.

Because four hours later my husband asks with a tipped chin, “are you wearing eye liner?”

And I nod with a slight smile..

Then he pauses, possibly to compliment.

Only he adds instead, “because it’s really hard to look at you with it on.”

 

Right.

So…

 

After twelve years of marriage…seems we’ve got honesty down.

Up next…tact.

Go Honey!

 

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