I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
October 5, 2008
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Hubs occasionally finds himself the butt of my jokes on my blogs, but he always takes it well, and there’s a reason for that: He rocks.
Besides that, I show him anything that I worry might offend him before I publish it. I don’t think he’s ever been miffed by what I’ve written, though, and I like to think that’s because we’re close and I have a really good idea of what he’d find offensive and what he’d find funny. We continually marvel at how lucky we are that we enjoy each others’ company so much that we really enjoy doing almost everything together.
That said, once the clock strikes nine and the kids are in bed, it’s primetime for Hubs and me. We spend nearly every evening together, usually reading or watching a TV series together. (Right now, we’re completely engrossed in the HBO Network’s ‘Rome.’)
Before I join Hubs in the playroom, I generally run upstairs to freshen up. Last night, after a busy afternoon strolling through Centennial Park’s Art Fair, chasing after Bruiser during Punky’s soccer practice, and cooking a new Asian Noodle dish for the entire family, I looked like one hot mess. Once upstairs, I quickly redid my eye makeup, put on some powder, and brushed my hair. I try to treat our date nights in at least a little bit like our date nights out, after all.
Once I came back downstairs, we started watching ‘Rome.’ About five minutes into the program, my eye started bothering me; it felt like an eyelash or a piece of lint was in it. I did all the usual things- pulled out my eyelid a bit and swept underneath it with my pinky. I closed my eye and rolled my eyeball around a little. It was still there.
I pressed my eyelid with my thumb and tried to dislodge whatever was in my eye. No luck. After about ten minutes of this, I abandoned all efforts to save my eye makeup and I started rubbing. I rubbed my eye for the rest of the show. I needed to go wash it out with water, but I was really involved in ‘Rome,’ and didn’t want to pause the DVD.
By the time the show had ended, my eye was feeling a bit better. As the credits rolled, Hubs turned to me. “Let’s go to bed,” he yawned. And then he started telling me some story about something that had happened at work. We talked for a few minutes, then turned off all the lights and went upstairs to bed.
As I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth, I looked at my face in the mirror. And I started laughing. In my efforts to get the lint out of my eye, I had rubbed my eye makeup all over half of my face. I looked like I had a huge black eye.
And Hubs hadn’t even noticed.
I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended. I mean, it’s nice to know he might not even notice when I get the occasional zit or have dark circles under my eyes after one too many late nights.
But what am I spending all this money on makeup and hair products for if my husband doesn’t even notice?! When I think of all the money and time I could be saving by skipping the makeup and hair routine when I’m not leaving the house, I really have to wonder if it’s all been a big mistake.
Maybe tonight, I’ll come downstairs in clown makeup after the kids are in bed. I wonder if he’ll notice then….
This post originally appeared on Parents.com.
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