Day 14: Fake It Till You Make It

Sometimes life throws us a stick of hilarity like no other...you can chase it like a dog or you can cower away with embarrassment. I prefer to ignore the latter response and embrace all hilarious situations as a woman who wears it as a badge of honour. 

As a mother of four daughters I like to pride myself on teaching my young women about sun safety, encouraging my girls to get a tan that's sprayed on rather than baking in like a roast chook, leaving their skin as if they were a leathery chiko roll by the time they are in their 40's. (Not to mention the risk of skin cancer) During the summer months the spray tan tent is permanently erected in the shed where the girls take turns in spraying each other to get that sun kissed glow that every white Aussie teenage girl wished she was born with. They also use a cream to help the tan stay even as their dead skin cells come away during each shower post tanning session. 

So what's the point of telling you my daughters beauty routines I hear you ask! (This is where my story gets good!) 

Every night my kindly blindman is sweet enough to rub moisturising cream into my feet. One Saturday night we got home quite late. We went to bed and as usual my husband offered to rub cream into my hoofs to keep them moist and supple. Early Sunday morning Dean awoke and went to a morning church council meeting. I rolled out of bed at 8.15am and with church starting at 9am I knew that if I didn't get a wriggle on I would certainly be late. As I threw back the cosy bed linen I quickly noticed something most horrifying about my feet. Yes, you guessed it! One of my lovely daughters had decided she would apply her fake tan in our room while we were out on our blind date! Our room has a full length mirror so it is often the room the girls congregate in to get ready when they're going out. It's the room they use to check on their little figures to see if they're looking their best and now I suppose it was the room they used to rub the streaks out of their false skin tones. 

So as I hazelly gazed down at my tootsies, my feet had changed to the most unusual colour of Cheetos cheese balls. The cream was not just on my toes, my husband doing such a thorough massage, left self- tan marks half way up my shins. My bottom half now the colour of Bondi Bronze in the middle of the hottest Aussie summer, you know that orange chocolate colour of a Darrel Lea Jaffas, except it smelt like the bottom of a chemist's shop garbage bin, with the wreak of chemicals bad enough to melt a plastic rose. 

Startled by the scene before my eyes, my white sheets looked like someone had been murdered down the foot of the bed. I leapt out of bed and jumped into the shower trying to recover this awkward situation. Perhaps I could scrub it off...was my only thought to salvage the morning...but alas, that would be moisturiser had stained my skin to the very core! What to do? What to do? My brain kept ticking...stockings...lets do this!
Yes that would've been the best answer but, no, I didn't have one pair without a ladder! DARN!

Last chance...my winter knee high boots! Yes, it was the middle of summer, yes,  this was crazy but...I could salvage the situation with a fringe jacket, going the Tamworth Country Music look.
Arriving at church on the door knocker of 9am, I was greeted with a grin by one of the young men at the door. He said to me, "Hey, has Dean got something wrong with him?" Baffled I peered at him with a puzzled look thinking his question was in some way related to my lateness or to my crazy boot in summer country attire.
Kicking it Country Style 

Boots to cover my cheetoes

I answered "He was okay when he got up and got a ride to church this morning. We did have a late night though. Why do you ask?" The response sent me into hysteria...(just to put you in the picture Dean was in the Bishopric at the time. He was sitting on the stand when I arrived and the meeting had just started.)
"Well, you see when Dean came to shake my hand his hands looked odd! They were brown like he had some sort of treatment on his skin. I thought he might have a skin condition as well as being blind?" 
I couldn't contain myself, standing out in the hallway I laughed so hard that they had to shut the doors to the chapel to stop my heckling noise carrying into the reverent space.  As I looked at the young man with tears of laughter in my eyes and giggles welling up under my inner chest, I removed one of my boots and asked him ( in snickers of bemusement) "Did his hands look like this?" His eyes opened wide with a baffled look. "Ah ha yep that looks the same" 

At this point I wondered what he must be thinking but because of my snorting laughter he got the gist that Dean's health was just fine. This is where Dean was able to teach this young man a valuable lesson or may be two valuable lessons.  1. Always love your wife and rub her feet at night because no matter what she will love you back. 2.Always read the label before applying! 
And perhaps lesson number 3 was given by me...always learn to laugh at yourself, don't take yourself too seriously because you never know a blind person with cheese ball hands might sweep you off your feet and if your too serious about stuff you might just miss enjoying these simple funny memories along the way!