It was a quiet Saturday morning. My husband was lying on the couch watching TV and my son was playing with his cars. Now was my chance to sneak off to my bedroom so I could take a much-needed shower and wash away the inch of grease in my hair (let’s be real moms, who has the time or interest to wash their hair everyday anymore?).
I tiptoed to my bedroom and slowly closed the door behind me, hoping that my son didn’t hear me or feel my presence escape the room. If he did, all hell was going to break loose. To my surprise, he didn’t suspect a thing.
I headed to the shower, picked up my phone and began to play music. Wait! My son couldn’t know I was in there. It was the only time that listening to Justin Timberlake just wasn’t worth it.
I took a long shower (I even shaved my legs and painted my toenails, which doesn’t happen very often). When I started to put on my makeup, it hit me: I left my bottle of foundation in my purse. It doesn’t sound like a crisis, but it definitely was. My purse was on the kitchen table. If I left my bedroom now, I would be discovered, and my whole plan of having an hour of quiet time would be destroyed. I wasn’t willing to take that risk. Not today. Not ever.
There had to be a way that I could retrieve the bottle of makeup without ruining my perfectly devised plan. What about telekinesis? It can’t be THAT difficult to move an object with your mind, right? I can do most things that I put my mind to, however, telekinesis would require me to move the bottle of makeup AND open the door with my mind. The door cannot open. I can’t risk the chance of him seeing me. But, what if I opened the window in the kitchen and the window in my bedroom with my mind and moved the bottle of makeup that way? He wouldn’t suspect a thing, right? I quickly snapped out of my state of delirium and had to face the facts: if I wanted my makeup, I was going to have to go and get it.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, including the dark circles under my eyes and the acne on my chin. Was I willing to go without? I didn’t love the way I looked without makeup, but I did love the time I was getting to take care of me. Getting the opportunity to have time to myself doesn’t happen very often anymore.
I had to make a decision. I was losing time.
After a few seconds of debating in my head, I zipped up my makeup bag (sans face makeup), layed down on my bed, and started reading the book that had been sitting on my night stand for two months, untouched.
I could wear makeup tomorrow. But for right now, I wanted to soak up every minute of quiet time that I could get.
For once, it sounded like my husband had everything under control.