I always wished I could do things with my mom like shop in the mall, share makeup secrets or go to the movies and watch romantic comedies. My wish never materialized. My mama behaved like a tomboy. She loved baseball and pitched with a strong right arm. She could care less about the latest fashion or the latest movies featured on the big screen. She never polished her fingernails. One day after elementary school, I walked into the house to find my mom all dolled up in front of the bathroom mirror, foundation crème, powder, eyebrow pencil and rouge all over the counter sink. “Who are you?” I asked, thrilled to see my mama putting on the Ritz. Makeup in place and blotted, she immediately took it off. “I don’t like the way it feels,” she exclaimed. She retired in Arizona and protected her dry lips with a light rose lipstick, the color of natural lips, a step above ChapStick. She wore it a few tim...
Comments
Post a Comment