Yuppers. I must be a looney bird, but oh, yes, I did. This time though, it was by a professional. Close your eyes children and let Mum tell you a story... On second thought, you probably need them open to read this tale.
Once upon a time (yesterday), there was a fairy mum who spent the livelong day at the beach with a lot of children. She ate sandy-wiches and drank mouthfuls of salt water. She got to spend more time in the public loo stall with her 3 year old than she did relaxing in her chair. Her favorite sounds of the ocean were drowned out by the tattling and complaining of the smallish people that surrounded her. And a horsefly bit her on the leg. She thought, "you know what what make this day even more lovely? A bikini wax!"
(I think body hair, by nature, wants to remain attached to one's body. It is especially stubborn in the most unsightly places - the chin of a lady, armpits and, of course, down under. It grows wild and in different directions and when disturbed, it overreacts angrily with rashes and stubble. Meanwhile, the hairs atop my head fall out freely and clog the shower drain daily.)
Anywho, back to the story...
Fairy Lady Rainbow Mum, gathered her overtired, sweaty, salty and sandy yowlings, strapped them into the belly of the royal minivan carriage and headed to a town far, far away. As best as she could while driving, she tidied her hair and straightened her dress and brushed as much of the ocean as she could from her tired old self. She met, at the salon, a woman who promised to be make this a most pleasant experience and as they ascended the 98 degree stairwell to the attic spa, she knew it would be anything but. But she was a wise Mum and she came equipped with goldfish crackers and water. The three wee ones should be capable of behaving for a mere 20 minutes, right? She waved a magic wand over their blonde heads and asked them quietly and calmly to, "sit nice, share, look at a magazine if you like" and then proceeded to enter the designated beautification room. The room, as you can well imagine, is air conditioned, thickly scented by aromatherapy, soothing colors, the softest blankets, and the sounds of the rainforest tie the entire motif together. I sit on the table - nervous about the pain, but more so about the children in the adjoining room. My charming aesthetician tries to ease my fear with words of encouragement and understanding, as I lay on the table in the most precarious, vulnerable position ever...
Marsha: 1, 2, ...
Me: You three better be good out there - OUCHIE!
Marsha: you live close by honey? Ready?
Me: I am serious you little hooligans! If I have to get up - HOOCHIE MAMA!
Marsha: How was the ocean water?
Me: (glass nailpolish bottles crashing down noise) What is going - HANNA MONTANA!!!!
By the time the 23 minutes in the room of horrors was over, my sweeties had rearranged all of the Opi nail colors by size and favorite. Thing 1 figured out how to turn on and operate the pedi-spa soak machine. The crackers were gone. The plant was wet - presumably with the water they were supposed to drink and I had 3 slightly traumatized sorts to escort home because they all took turns peeking in at their yelling fairy rainbow sparkle mama. Also, she missed a few spots and so now I have to do tweezer duty. Good news though - I can now threaten them with a visit to the waxing museum should they dare misbehave and I am pretty confident that I have entirely horrified the girls from ever attempting hair removal (good to keep the teenaged boys away) and my boy will be forever scarred and afraid of womenkind (he thinks I am quite tough though with my pain threshold and all) so he can live with me forever and rub my old lady feet...
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