Monday I found myself on the road with a traveling freak show: Orange Julius the Orange-Faced Man, McMucus the Snot Monster, and Lord Pomferoy Gentleman Dandy. Or as I usually refer to them, my family. Let me explain.
It's spring spring break so we took the wee ones to the Lost Pines Hyatt outside of Austin for some fun in the sun. As we were passing the giraffe statue that indicates the Dallas Zoo along I-35 I took my first breath after a morning of getting kids ready, more packing, ice chest filling, and last minute sweep-up of filth-flarth-and-filth on my den floor and glanced at Husband in a "we made it" kind of way. And I noticed something strange. Husband had a very distinct line of color running just along his jaw line. Like when someone wears a heavy, dark base and doesn't blend it in to their neck. Huh. I was intrigued.
"Um, have you been putting something on your face?" I asked sweetly.
"No. Why?" He replied suspiciously.
"Uh, because your face is darker than your neck by, like, a lot." I stated with all the vigor a woman who knows what's what.
"Oh, really?" He queried back at me like a man in deep denial of his own vanity.
"Really. Your face is orange and your neck is white. Are you sure you haven't been putting anything on your face?" I asked again though the answer was as plain as the orange on his face.
"Oh, yeah. I did put some of that face tanning lotion on. But that's all." He finally confesses.
"Hmm. Are you sure it was the kind for your face? Cause it looks like you used the hardcore, deep, dark, tan stuff for your body on your face?" I was determined to lay the truth bare.
"Well, I think so. It's some I bought and it was in a small bottle so I assumed it was the same stuff you bought." And the truth is revealed at last, a man's preening has led to a secret drug store purchase of a product known to women to be dangerous if not used properly.
"Pretty sure you used the wrong kind. Cause it looks like a rabbit sat on you face and farted. or worse." I giggled.
Once my giggling subsided I glanced in the back seat at Samantha to find that she had the biggest, yellowist, snot-glob plugging her nose heretofore known in the world. Samantha has been recovering from strep-throat and a wicked cold and though the strep has been beat back, yet again, the cold remains. I have never seen one small nose make so much foul, free-flowing discharge. Grossed out, yet? Welcome to the Freak Show. What made it worse was her dabbing at it with tissue after tissue. The child cannot blow her nose in the aggressive manner required by such inhuman quantities of snot. I finally just stopped looking at her. What I don't see, don't hurt me.
But even as I tried to ignore the backseat Snot Monster, Orange Julius was complaining about Jake's hair and urging me to turn and look at it for the millionth time. "Look at him! Look at those sideburns! He looks ridiculous!"
Look, Jake has a problem with hair clippers and that problem is terror. Getting his haircut is tantamount to a ruthless beating. At least he acts like it is. Consequently, we don't go to the hairdresser often and when we do it's always a rough cut with the side burns rarely getting buzzed. And so the gentleman dandy was born. His sideburns have grown so long they curve around his cheek like the bushy burn of a 17th Century, gentleman dandy with a top hat, frilly shirt, and velvet waistcoat. It really is ridiculous, but at this point I refuse to go back with him to the salon. I've done the last two trips and now expect Husband to do his duty. So Husband's complaining falls on deaf ears.
Besides, I can't take him seriously with that orange face. hee hee.
And that's my freak show.