Red is for ~EEK!~

This is the story of the time my husband looked at me and screamed. Let me warn you, it is not a normal story. It begins in the present and moves backwards.

I had to buy a new lipstick today. It had been so long since I had bought one that I was amazed at the wide assortment of new colors.

Is lipstick becoming like nail polish? I wondered. Will younger generations wear blue, green and yellow shades of lipstick soon? Hmm... 

I carefully inspected each shade that I liked until my eyes landed on one in particular; bright red. And I mean bright. I stopped for a minute and then went on to select my usual light mauve color. I had to replace my favorite lipstick, and here's why.

As most of you know (click here if not), my family went to the fair last week. I know they must get so sick of me trailing behind them with my camera, clicking right and left, up and down. I always get teased about the wondrous moments I just have to capture on film. I've even witnessed my children making bets with each other AND THEIR FRIENDS on whether or not I'm going to whip my hair camera out.

When we were in the livestock section admiring the good-looking animals and listening to real life "oinks" and "moos," I was doing what I always do; lagging behind taking pictures. I decided to put my camera back in my dark knapsack so I wouldn't be tempted for awhile; but when I did, my favorite lipstick fell to the cow-poop infested ground, knocking the lid off. Of course, there was no way I was ever going to use it again, so I had to buy some new lipstick.

But I knew I could never choose bright red lipstick again, or I might just scare Pete. Way back when we were engaged, we were getting ready to go somewhere very important (but I can't remember where). I happened upon an old lipstick in my evening bag. It was as red as a beautiful cardinal against newly fallen snow (my fair complexion).

This will be perfect with my black dress, I thought.

I carefully lined my lips just so and filled them in with the sparkling delight. Pete was waiting for me in the other room, calling for me to hurry up or we'd be late. I finished up, kissed a tissue to dab it a bit, and pranced out with my slinky bag in tow. I knew Pete would be surprised by my outfit, I had fixed my hair just so. Maybe he would whistle or something.

What I didn't expect was a scream.

Pete saw me and screamed, I kid you not. I screamed back. Was there a bug on me? I looked down at my body, my shoes, the rug. I inspected my arms closely, swished my face. I hopped around like an Indian around a campfire. Pete simply stood there looking at me. Soon his expression morphed into an impish grin which quickly grew into a chuckle and then outright hilarity as he watched my melodramatic debacle.

"What? What's wrong with me?" I sputtered.

"Nothing, really. I was just taken back by that red lipstick."