Why must my bedtime rituals be soOoOoo unflattering?
Last night, as I was brushing my teeth and washing my face, I realized what Brian must see when I come to bed.
Let’s consider for a moment the basics of my nightly routine:
- Teeth brushing: No problem. Who doesn’t like minty fresh breath?
- Flossing: Not a terrible habit, but definitely causes the gums to bleed here and there.
- Face washing: Exposes all the dark circles, pimples and blotchy skin that I hid all day.
- Hair brushing: We have a motto as stylists when it comes to curly/wavy hair: The ends need friends. When you brush through hair that’s not poker straight, it tends to look a tad fuzzy, dare I say frizzy, on the ends.
- Declaring war on my face: Oh, wait, you don’t incorporate that into your bedtime ritual? You don’t pick and prod and poke and scratch and squeeze and exfoliate? I love declaring war on my face. And by face, I mean 10% face and 90% nose.
And what are the results of this nightly routine?
My loving husband falls asleep next to gum-bleeding, Mrs. Mullet Bangs, frizzy-haired, blotchy-skinned, tired-eyed, minty fresh Rudolph.
But watch this.
Brian doesn’t know what I’m blogging about yet. So I’m going to ask him a question.
Me, “Brian, how did I look when I feel asleep last night?”
Brian, “I don’t know. I fell asleep first. I think I fell asleep before you did. Beautiful, I remember though. Why? What’d you blog about? Did you blog about sex?”
Guess I don’t need to worry about it, huh?