I Feel Pretty …

477

By Kathy Miele
It was early on a weekend morning when I decided to give myself a day of pampering.
Going through the cabinets in my bathroom I found all the products that would make me beautiful. The first step was smoothing on a thick layer of clay on my face. Once that was done I sat back on the couch ready to read the newspaper and wait for my facemask to harden.
Steven walked in and did a quick double take. “What’s that for?” he asked.
“It’s a detox mask,” I answered barely moving my lips and wondering if maybe becoming a ventriloquist was in my future.
“What are you detoxing from?” he asked.
“Can’t talk, mask is hardening.” I picked up the newspaper again and continued my relaxing.
Once the mask was done, I decided to put a deep-oil treatment in my hair and a peppermint mask on my feet.
Steven walked by again. “Wow! What’s that smell?” He looked at my feet propped up on the coffee table encased in a chalk-like substance and my oily hair on top of my head wrapped in plastic wrap.
“It’s the peppermint. I’m recharging my tired feet.”
I’d finished with the newspaper and had moved on to a book. “After 10 minutes I can rinse this off then I’ll put on a thick layer of shea butter before I put on a pair of white cotton socks, two hours later my feet will be baby soft and completely rehydrated.”
“With a smell like that I bet you’re opening up your sinuses too!” Steven held his hand over his nose as he walked past me to go to the kitchen. “I know mine are,” he mumbled.
Twenty minutes later, freshly out of the shower, the deep-oil treatment was done and my hair was air drying. No heat from a blow dryer was going to mess up a 20-minute oil treatment!
I sat back on the couch ready to start my manicure. With my wet hair now hanging around my newly detoxed face and my feet sliding around in my white cotton socks, (I might have gone a little too heavy with the shea butter), I began buffing my nails.
Steven came by again. “Are done in the bathroom?” he asked. “I’d like to get my shower.”
“I am, but be careful in the shower,” I called. “My oil treatment might have left the floor of the shower a little slippery.”
When Steven came out of the shower, my nails were finished and drying. “Thanks for the warning,” he said. “It was pretty slippery in there.”
“Sorry about that. I’ll scrub it out later when I’m finished.” I waved my fingers back and forth and began blowing on them. “Do you want some lunch?” I asked.
“Sure, what are you making?” he asked.
“I was hoping you’d make something,” I said as I waved my fingers around. “I’m still drying.”
“I was going to make some eggs,” he said. “Do you want some?”
“That would be perfect,” I said as I grabbed my book and settled back into the cushions of the couch wondering why I didn’t do these beauty treatment weekends more often.