They say the only reason women will allow themselves to endure the pain of childbirth a second, or possibly a third or forth, time is because of amnesia. Amnesia is also the reason I willingly bleached my hair blonde several years after swearing to myself that I would never make that mistake again. It would seem that every few years I come down with a case of that very same amnesia and agree to heavy blonde highlights that I immediately regret.
Amnesia was again at play as I lingered for hours in the grocery store today...having forgotten a list, I was forced to walk through the aisles making my selections with great care...or reckless abandon...depending on your point of view.
I bought cookies and noodles on sale. Kool-Aid and carrots...watermelon and cheese. My choices had no rhyme or reason. I even found myself cruising the cleaning products, contemplating every scent...every formula...as if I had never purchased bleach cleaners before. I picked up and put down countless items that I would never normally consider. I was lost without a guide. Blindly walking the store like a shopping zombie.
By the time I reached the hygene aisle, I was suffering from product overload. That is the only excuse that makes sense. I mean, I literally wrote the book on this topic...how could I possibly make the very mistake I had warned women about for years?
Amnesia! That's how...and why...I was standing between the exfoliating body wash and the anti-aging skin lightening creams, staring open mouthed at the array of self waxing kits before me.
There were so many. There were the liquid sugar waxing kits. The smooth, roll-on, warm-up kind. The melt in the microwave kits that I had already failed miserably using in the past. The list went on, and I was mesmerized by the simplicity they promised in their short but sweet tag lines. I held each one in my hands, reading over the instructions, telling myself it would be fine...I could do this...it said so right on the box!
I was a toddler enthralled by a purple dinosaur.
I don't know what knocked me out of the spell I was under. Maybe a passing shopper spoke to me. Maybe an announcement over the loud speaker caught my attention. But whatever the reason, I was brought to my senses. The purple haze over my thoughts had lifted.
I pulled my hand from the waxing kits like I was recoiling from a snake and made a beeline out of the aisle. I quickly finished my shopping, suddenly wide awake and focused on the task at hand. As soon as I was safely in the car, I called my husband as if he was my AA sponsor and I was admitting my near miss with a bottle of fifty year old scotch!
He was dumbfounded that I had come so close...in fact, he misunderstood what I was saying and had to ask me to clarify. "You almost bought what???" He blurted out. "Didn't you write the book on that subject already?" That was what I said!
I barely excaped with my skin intact the last time...I wasn't about to attempt that twice!
Well...I was actually about to attempt that twice. Thank goodness I came to my senses...suffering for one's art has its limits, you know.
Until the next time...I'll be re-reading the bikini wax disaster as cautionary tale! (and with summer so close at hand, maybe you should too!)