Humiliation

I've felt rotten all week. I mean, r-o-t-t-e-n. The first part of the week I had a flu bug or something and after that, my stomach has been in knots. I have no shame; I'll say it. I'm constipated. Woe is me. I finally broke down today and sent John to the store for some supplies to help remedy the situation.

So, anyway, as I was laying in bed wishing the worst were over (hoping that Milk of Magnesia would kick in before I bloated up and floated away), Liana poked her head in my room. "Mama, can I snuggle with you?" Feeling a few gurgles and knowing I might need to jump up in a minute, I had a hard time saying yes, but I did anyway. I scooted over and she snuggled in. We chatted a bit, and finally she said, "Mama, you have hairs on your chin. Let me get 'em." Ok, so I'm thinking I shed a few hairs and they happened to be on my neck. Nope. We're talking hairs as in whiskers. She started plucking away. About then I'm feeling pretty humiliated by my life's circumstances. Waiting for a potty run, and having my 6-yr-old groom me. Great. Whaddaya do? "Liana, go get the tweezers. Top drawer in the bathroom in my make-up bag." She was outta that bed in an instant. She examined my face like a monkey looking for fleas on his buddy's back. She pulled my face skin up with one hand, and felt for whiskers with the other. I won't tell you how many she found, but she took care of them. (Yet another advantage to adopting older kids!) At least I know she'll trim my beard when I'm in the nursing home.

Btw, MOM took care of me today too. ;O)