It’s time to get real on today’s blog post. There comes a time in every girl’s life when she realizes that her eyebrows have become one giant furry caterpillar living over her eyes.
The day I realized my caterpillar was not going to turn into a beautiful butterfly, I announced to my mother that it was time to get my eyebrows waxed. I imagined walking into the salon a gruesome awkward tween, and leaving as Karly Kloss. The best part? Shelly Salsberg would be soooooooooo jealous. Yes, my life was about to take a turn for the better.
What I hadn’t imagined?
“Honey, you’re much too young to get your brows waxed. What will people think?” My response, “Um, that Burt on Sesame Street is not my beauty icon?”
That got me sent to my room.
I spent the next few days reviewing my options. I could shave my eyebrows. It works on my legs, why not my brows? I grabbed a razor and headed to the bathroom. I turned that blue stick to the left, then the right, maybe a little bit sideways. “Stupid razor.” The thing was much too big and bulky to see what I was doing. Epic fail. I put the razor back and slumped on the floor.
I guess it’s time to try the old tweezers. I creep down the hall and into my parents room, cracking the door just enough to peek inside without being noticed. The coast is clear. I slip through the doorway and into their bathroom. Mom’s beauty products are in the top drawer. I shuffle some items around and spot the tweezers.
Perfect! I turn the tweezers over in my hands not sure how to use it. But here goes nothing. I lift them to my right brow and grab a patch of hair. Then with all my might yank the tweezers away from my face.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh,” I scream.
Looking into the mirror I am horrified. The hairs are still there, but a small circle of blood is starting to form. Are you kidding me? I plucked my skin and not the hairs? This is worse then when I burned my forehead with the curling iron. At least I could cover that up with bangs.
Placing a corner of toilet paper on the cut, I storm back to my room. It is clear that my mother is totally ruining my life.
About a week later we are in the drug store. I wander down the beauty isle and notice the brow waxing kits. After the plucking incident, I’m not sure I should try waxing, and that’s when a see it. A bottle of hair removal cream.
“That’s it!” I say. The directions seem simple enough. Place cream on hair removal area, wait 10 minutes and wipe off with a wash cloth. PERFECT!
As soon as we get home, I rush upstairs and open the bottle. Using my finger I place the cream above and below my eyebrows. Done. Now time to relax. I jump into bed and lay back to let the cream do it’s thing.
My alarm sounds and I rush into the bathroom, excited for my new and improved eyebrows. I grab a wash cloth and begin the removal process.
“Wow, my brows are bushier than I thought.” There is a lot of hair on the blue washcloth. “Oh it’s fine,” I tell myself. After a few minutes it’s time for the big reveal. I slowly lift my head excited for the new and improved me.
Half of my right eyebrow is missing and almost all of my left brow is gone. And I mean gone. Goodbye. Not there. How did this happen? For the next ten minutes I stare in the mirror and that’s when it sinks in. How am I going to go to school. I look ridiculous. And I mean alien freak show ridiculous.
Now you might be wondering where the story goes from here and as you might guess, there was a lot of shock, tears, yelling and finally laughter, but I got through it. And I did learn something very interesting from this experience…
Eyebrows serve a very important purpose. That night at gymnastics as sweat starting dripping down my forehead, there were no eyebrows to catch it. And yes, sweat in your eyes does hurt. So, don’t take your eyebrows for granted, they’re there to do a job.