Well, I was thinking about what I should write about tonight, and figured that while this is an embarassing story (one of many) it is also very entertaining while at the same time, a bit of a conundrum for me.

A week ago, I realized that I was getting a tad too hairy for my liking. Being from the genetics that I am, I am blessed with very bushy eyebrows, and heaven forbid, a bit of a moustache. (Oh shoot me now)

So, in the spirit of trying to save money as I have been doing lately (with me off work) I decided that I would tackle the job myself and wax the beasties off!

Well, this is entirely fine in theory, however, I really have very little experience, and those of you that know me, know that I am anything but graceful.

So, anyway there I stood, in front of the mirror in my bathroom, with my melted wax in hand, and very carefully applying the thick gooey evil stuff to my face.

Well, wouldn't you know it the phone rang. So, I carefully balanced the wax on the sink and ran off in search of the phone (which really is another issue because I really felt that my dear husband should have answered it, but alas, he was busy checking his fantasy football scores AGAIN)

My dear little doggie snoopy decided he wanted to check out the wax, and managed to knock it over. So, I did what any woman with a face full of wax would do. I started yelling at the top of my lungs. Which brought my oldest son to my side to see what was the matter. Instead of feeling sorry for me in my plight, he continued to stare at what was now the hardened wax on my face.

I am sorry for that mental image my son.

So, thinking I would be brilliant, I tried to clean up the hot sticky wax with some papertowel. Yep, you can imagine that worked well.

Fast forward to the next great idea. Hey! Its wax, I will put a terry cloth towel over it and rip it off, just like it was an eyebrow. I great big gigantic eyebrow!

Well, that did not work either. So, I figured I would leave the towel on and pull it off after it hardened.

So, the next night I attempt to rip it off, and I pull and pull, and it finally gives, but not before I am thrown across the room and hit my tailbone on the wall. I look at the towel and am perplexed to see that my flooring is now attached to my towel.

So, I look down at the subfloor and notice some water damage. So, I stuck the towel, and flooring back on the floor, which now, needs to be completly redone.

Moral of the story- its a hell of a lot cheaper to pay 20 dollars at the salon.

To those of you that visit at my home. Seriously man, just look away from the towel. It will be there for awhile. Maybe someone will take pity on me and bring me a nice festive holiday rug to throw over top of it.

Uh huh.

Merry Christmas.