Get Your Face Painted

Never pass up the opportunity to get your face painted.  It really is that simple.

Okay, okay – it’s not the most mature thing in the world to do.  I get why some of you might balk at the idea of it.  It’s a ‘kid thing,’ right? Afterall, when you go to a festival where they are doing such things, it’s generally the little kids who are lined up, hands clenched in eager anticipation as they wait for their turn beneath the brush.  They stare at their options to determine the best pick, study those before them to see what they get. If there’s a sibling involved, there might be a bit of bickering – who will get what, and who will look the best? (Isn’t that always the way with siblings?)

But there’s still that thrill to it all. A simple glee.

I’m sure I got my face painted as a kid, but frankly, I don’t remember it.  I remember being jealous of those kids who had the opportunity. I remember longing to pick out the paint that would be just right, and remember thinking oooooh, how much better than Jen (my sister) I would look with X, Y, or even Z. There would even be whispered arguments about ‘Ah, but if I had done THIS one…’

So on. So forth.

As a parent, I tried to give my son the opportunity whenever it arose to get his face painted.  Sometimes he was all in. Sometimes he passed. Didn’t really matter – it was up to him.

But me?

For a good fifteen years now, every time I’ve seen one of those booths set up, I’ve made a point to sit my tush down in the chair and proudly declare which design I wanted to be sporting.  It’s a little grab at that straw of childhood past. It’s a time to remember and enjoy.

And smile.

You can’t be sad when there’s downright spiffy designs scrawled over your features.

I’m not going to lie – there’s that little extra *umph* to it when I’m stopped, sometimes hours later, and someone says how much they like it or they simply smile at seeing it.  I tend to forget it after I’ve been wearing it for a bit, and I get that same little trill of happiness when I’m reminded of it later.

So enjoy. Embrace.  None of us are getting any younger (and if any of you are, please shoot me an email – we have entirely different things to talk about!). Yeah, yeah.  We’re all adults – we all have responsibilities but that doesn’t mean you can’t find joy in the little things.

Much love,

E.M. Ervin





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