Mummy, Are you Going to Sort your Face Out?

'Mummy, are you going to sort your face out?' were the charming words that tumbled from Little P's mouth a couple of days ago. My initial reaction was to clutch at my face and demand to know what was wrong with it. She seemed confused that I didn't already know...

Ah, right. It was because she was repeating my own words back to me. I had made the mistake of telling her we would go to the park 'in a little while'. It was during that stage of our day where I've had a shower but was dragging my feet getting us all ready. I struggled for twenty-odd years getting myself ready of a morning (sometimes afternoon) and suddenly my workload has increased threefold. It was around the fourth 'can we go now?' that I told her I needed to sort my face out before we could go anywhere.

I don't think I wear very much make-up but what little I wear makes a big difference. Or at least it does to me. I am not, however, someone who really enjoys make-up. Putting it on is definitely a chore rather than a luxurious routine so I trudged (it really was a trudge) upstairs to get on with it. Little P, hot on my tail (probably there to make sure I did what I was supposed to) followed me into the bathroom and asked if she could have some. I told her that she was far too beautiful (and she really is) for make-up.

It did get me thinking though, about how children view their parents. It wouldn't matter a bit to my littles whether or not I wore make-up (or to Daddy for that matter, but I think that's just lack of interest!) and Little P tells me so often how beautiful I am. I must admit, this is usually as a return gesture. 'I am so lucky to have two beautiful girls' I say - because I really can't help myself. 'And I'm so lucky to have a beautiful mummy'. (Maybe she feels obliged...) I remember how my friends and I all thought the world of our own parents as small children. We saw no flaws and were confident that our own mum/dad was smarter/prettier/taller/more clever/faster *and all other very important qualities* than 'yours', without doubt. It's such a privilege to now be in that position of mum and I think I ought to treat my role with a bit more respect. I thought about challenging myself to a week of no 'because I said sos' but I'm not one to set myself up for a fall!

As we were leaving to go to the park (already outside the house, with neighbours in earshot) Little P looked at me and asked 'what's that on your chin? I think you've got a spot'.