Cosmetic Dad
While I won’t outright admit it, I think it can be proven that I will do nearly anything for our 16-year-old daughter. It helps that we have good children, but sometimes I have to question just how far I will go to please my baby girl. The other week, my wife took our daughter to dance practice. Immediately following that, she would have to cheer at her school’s home-coming basketball game.
Because of the time squeeze, they were unable to pick up a main staple of performance cheerleading. That staple being false eyelashes, I was summoned and tasked with buying a pair before I picked them up to go to the game. I was given specific instructions, “Dad, they have to be the brand called Red Cherry and it has to be style No. 1. Only Longs carries them.”
Easy enough, or so I thought.
The first store I went to is where I discovered they were on sale. I also found out that it carried at least 100 different styles. It was all sold out of style No. 1. I called my daughter, and she insisted it had to be that one. I went to two other Longs and they, too, were out of Red Cherry No. 1. I decided to try one more store. As I approached the eyelash section, there was a crowd of teenage girls standing right in front of the display.
As I said, the eyelashes were on sale, so there must have been a run on these things. So, the six girls formed an impenetrable wall in front of the false eyelashes. I got close enough to see that the store had a bunch of No. 1’s.
The girls couldn’t seem to decide which style they wanted, and several times they put their fingers on the No. 1, and I held my breath. I couldn’t take the chance of leaving empty-handed, so I excused myself, reached over them and took all the No. 1’s. Just then, a cosmetics clerk asked if any of us needed help. One of the girls said, “Yes this man just took all the No. 1’s.”
I think the clerk decided to have some fun with me when she asked, “So you like the Red Cherry No. 1’s, huh?”
Two can play at that game, so I replied, “I won’t use anything else.”
And I said it without batting an eyelash.
rnagasawa@midweek.com
