The stuff of nightmares
Posted on | November 25, 2008 | Comments Off
My daughter owns a weird, decapitated head. Its purpose is to provide a blank canvas for all sorts of girlie make-up application practices. It has played this part for the last year or so and has worn many a combination of maquillage although, as a manly man, I am unsure of the exact classification of these cosmetics.
The head, eerie and frightening enough on a normal day, recently received an application of face paints (the ones used to make kids look like tigers at fairs). Daughter sat happily and carefully applied paints as I rustled up a nice Guinness and beef pie. When she’d finished, she called me over for a look.
Gaah! I mean, that’s beautiful. Wow, she looks great. Well done. I, erm, have to check the dinner.
I backed away slowly, muttering prayers to the god I don’t believe exists.
Brilliant, honey. Now, you clean dolly’s face and call me when it’s done. Not before, ok. When it’s all clean.
With closed eyes, I took a picture on my phone to prove it was real.
I see this in my nightmares.
Comments
Gerry Hayes
I mostly sit around all day and drink tea. Occasionally, I write stuff and send it to strangers so they can humiliate me and debase my efforts. Other than the self-harm to dull the shame of failure, it's not a bad life. Like I say, there's tea.
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