Sometimes my daughter’s logic makes me laugh. I am not laughing at her – I laugh at myself because I can follow the logic she used to make a decision.
My daughter started getting body hair at around 10 years old. I encouraged her to shave her armpits when they became quite hairy – I did not want anyone making fun of her when she went sleeveless. Let’s face it – kids can be mean. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. I offered assistance, Nair, an electric razor – but she couldn’t decide. I told her to think about it and let me know.
A short time later, I went up to check on her and I could smell a familiar scent. It was Cover Girl makeup. My makeup. I asked what she was doing and she showed me. She had taken my pale foundation and spread it all over her dark brown armpits. “It covers stuff you don’t want someone to see, right?” she asked. Well, I understood her logic, but the make up did NOT make her armpit hair disappear. It just made the hair sort of pink. (When she was little she told me, “I’m chocolate and you are bologna.” That really is a pretty accurate description of our colors.)
We settled on a compromise: no shaving – short sleeves, not tank tops – and an old t-shirt over her swimsuit.
Oh, and since she had put the make up on her pits sort of like you put on roll-on deodorant, I threw it out. At the time, I couldn’t afford to replace it…so she did me a favor: I stopped wearing so much makeup, and never went back to it.