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I am a cheater

I am completely ashamed of my behavior, but I have to admit – I am a cheater. The cheatee is the lovely esthetician who has been dying my brows and lashes from their natural translucent blonde color to a more visible brown for almost two and a half years.

Our relationship began days before Baby #2 was born. I needed a brow and lash tint ASAP so that I would look presentable in the post-birth photos that would grace the pages of our family album for all future generations to see. I certainly didn’t want my great, great, great, great-grandchildren gasping in horror at their brow and lashless ancestor. When I called Salon #1 to make the appointment, but my usual esthetician, Girl #1, was not available. While I am normally a patient person (yeah, right), the baby was coming and I didn’t have time to wait for her…so I took an appointment with Girl #1A. I didn’t feel guilty of cheating at this point because I’d only been to Girl #1 a few times, plus she was the owner of the salon so she’d still be making money from me whether or not she was the one to actually do the job. Perhaps this was the wrong choice and perhaps karma really is a bitch because the appointment did not go well. Some sort of a snafu/misunderstanding with the brow dye left me with heavy, dark, Graucho Marx brows.

Girl #1A felt horrible and swore that the dye would wash off my skin in a couple days. Horrified, but maintaining my composure, I headed home hoping that Baby #2 would wait to make his entrance into the world until my face situation was under control. That night, when Hubby #1 got home, I showed him the disaster that were my brows. (It should be mentioned at this point that he is not, nor has he ever been, in favor of my monthly dye job, claiming that he prefers my au naturel face…ahhh, so sweet…but get real!)

“The brows aren’t really that bad,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically sympathetic.

“Really?” I asked feeling hopeful that things really weren’t as bad as they looked in the mirror at the salon.

“But your lashes are horrible. They’re blue.”

“What?!?” I shrieked and ran to the bathroom.

Sure enough, there were navy blue lashes framing my eyes. I had been so distraught over the dark brows that I had failed to even notice the lashes. My whole face was a disaster, the baby was days away, and all future generations would think they came from clown stock. The situation was so bad that I, Queen Wimp, called the salon the first thing the next morning and insisted they squeeze me in for whatever correction could happen. Thankfully, by the time Baby #2 arrived, I was in okay shape.

So, you would think with all that happened that I would have taken it as a sign from the Salon Gods that I should return to Girl #1, but I didn’t. I decided that I liked Girl #1A. She was so nice and apologetic about the mistakes that I had no choice but to forgive her, and then prove to her that she really was forgiven by going back again and again. We never had another issue…the color was perfect from then on…and all was well.

Then why, you ask, would I go behind her back and cheat on her? Well, it comes down to laziness. Our move last October shifted me a whopping 6.2 miles from Salon #1. I made the trek for almost eight months, but it was starting to wear me down. Then I got a postcard in the mail for a new salon, Salon #2, that is a much more manageable 3.01 miles from my house. I know! I’m a whore to save three miles of driving…although, it’s saving six miles roundtrip – I’m just saying. And, I hate to admit, I really do, but I’m happy at Salon #2. (I hate even more to admit that Girl #2 does a better job for for less money.)

I wondered if I needed to officially break-up with Girl #1, but because I am Queen Wimp, I will forever avoid the official relationship ending conversation. I do feel really guilty though! She’s so nice and she always did such a good job (from the second time on). Honestly, I think she would understand because she’s THAT nice. I hate that she’s being punished because I have an aversion to traveling outside a five mile radius from my home. Really, it’s not her, it’s me! I am a dirty, rotten, no-good cheater…with beautiful brows and lashes.

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