wax

Lisa

I come from a long line of low maintenance women. Women whose make up drawers consist only of mascara and a tube of lip gloss, whose nightly face washing routine involves splashing water on their face and calling it good.

Consequently, many of my early experiments with cosmetics did not go well.

In college, my best friend Kristen and I decided that we’d give waxing a try. It didn’t occur to us that it might be a good idea to go to a salon and pay a professional just to see how it was done. Nope. We didn’t have the money or patience for that. Instead, we ran to the nearest corner store and bought a home kit and went to town.

The results were comedic. We over heated the wax, burned our legs and accidentally spilled the jar on our kitchen table. I’m pretty sure that poor table is still sticky and that its current owner is still blaming the stickiness on a maple syrup mishap.

I have since learned better. I have paid my dues at a salon and I have found a home kit that works for me.

Then last weekend my parents and Little Brother came for a visit. Bless Little Brother’s soul, he said, “Lisa, I read Sarah’s post on losing weight. Girls make a lot of sacrifices to look good and I think that guys need to step up their game. My girlfriends are always talking about how guys need to wax. So, I was wondering if you would help me get rid of some of the stray hairs on my chest and upper arms. Don’t make me look like Michael Phelps or anything. Just, you know, clean me up a little.”

I was feeling pretty good. Not only does my sibling 8 years my junior read my blog every day, he also comes to me for cosmetic help. I am cool. Trustworthy. Better than a make over show. YES!

“Well,” I said in my most professional voice, “I’d be happy to. I’ve got the wax but nothing to apply it with. Think you could go to the grocery store and get some popsicle sticks?”

Little Brother and Tagg returned with something even better: those massive Home Depot paint sticks. “This is more manly,” they said.

Here’s why I will never be able to get a job at a salon:

-I figured that since I wasn’t allergic to the wax that Little Brother wouldn’t be allergic to the wax.

-Little Brother had just spent the previous day tanning on the roof of our apartment building; it didn’t occur to me that it might not be a good idea to slather hot wax on burnt skin.

-I forgot to tell him to avoid a hot shower for the first few hours post-waxing.

Needless to say, I am no longer a cosmetic guru in Little Brother’s eyes. Again, Little Brother, I’m really, really sorry. But keep applying the aloe vera. It will help. I think.