That Horrible Child

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Nail Polish Nightmare

NAIL POLISH NIGHTMARE

Being an only child, I became accustomed to creating my own fun, much to my mother’s annoyance. It was common knowledge that if there was trouble brewing, I’d be right in the middle of it.

In my defence, being a bored toddler with no siblings to rival with made creativity a necessity and like most little girls, the thought of wearing makeup and looking grown up and beautiful was irresistible.

My mother had lovely long red nails, which I often stared at in awe. One morning, whilst mum was in the shower, I snuck into her room and decided to help myself. I had watched mum paint her nails before, so I was naturally an expert at it.

Within minutes my nails were looking exquisite. When something looks so good, why stop? I gently ran the brush over my fingers and delicately painted my hands. There was still plenty of liquid remaining, so standing on a chair before mum’s dressing table, I began to decorate my face.

My lips and eyelids became a bright toffee-apple red. I flittered my eyes at the mirror. I looked stunning.

By the time my mum had finished in the shower, I knew I was in trouble. The polish was all gone and my eyelids were stuck in place.

Mums trained eye spotted the empty bottle immediately and she came stomping through the house in pursuit.

Horrified, my mum armed herself with the nail polish remover and worked at cleaning my hands and cheeks, whilst on the phone to the doctor asking for advice on how to remove nail polish from delicate areas.

The doctor suggested my mother bring me in to the surgery for him to have a look at the damage, perhaps he needed something to lift his spirits that day.

My mum hid her face as we raced through the crowds to the doctor surgery. I held my head high, showing everyone my art work. I smiled a gummy red grin as I attempted to purse my lips and flitter my eyes.

I was forced to hold my head back in order to see, as my face was stuck with the look I’d directed at the mirror when the polish dried, something my mother had always warned would happen if I pulled faces.

The doctor thought it was hilarious, much to both mine and my mother’s disgust. He informed us that the polish in my ears, up my nose, on my teeth and eyelids would need to be left alone, as the use of chemicals in such places was dangerous.

My mother was mortified, despite my reassurance that I was gorgeous. I was babysat a lot that week, as mum’s friends found it much easier to laugh whilst claiming that I wasn’t theirs. Needless to say, I luckily did not decide to direct my creativity into being a makeup artist and instead decided to become a writer.

My mother is very grateful for that.

Kylie Logic:

My mother put nail polish on quite often and her nails always looked beautiful. People commented on my mum’s lovely nails all the time. It was obvious that nail polish made you look pretty, which is something most little girls strive for. Despite mum’s horror, I thought I looked absolutely gorgeous.

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