Friday, July 8, 2011

Where does this evil in me come from???

If you are an older sister you know that God gave you the power of manipulation...what?...that wasn't bestowed upon me by God?....for having to put up with her stealing my status as only girl in a family of boys???? Oh. Well......hmmm....I am manipulative when it comes to my sister. I LOVE and cherish every moment that her big, blue eyes with long, thick beautiful eyelashes (mine are short and thin), look at me with complete trust. Then something inside me flips a switch and I have the feeling of ultimate POWER!!!!!!!! 
Let me take you to a rather large private hospital room in Lincoln, NE.  The year was 2003 and my finances were low.  I was living in the hospital/long term acute care with my husband (my first husband) while he took his sweet time waking up from a coma.  I was bored.  I was broke.  I had had no reason to 'prune my bush' in months and my sister (who was know for her European hair growth) was visiting.
So on this cold winter's day when my sweet sister came to keep me company she looked at me and asked, as she often does, if I would wax her eyebrows.  (Of course, any chance she gives me to practice cosmetology on her is a chance I leap at. It's something I love to do and I can only wax my own eyebrows so far...believe me...I've taken it to the limit).  So after her brows were sculpted beyond perfection and me not so secretly relishing every flinch and rip of the wax I had the best idea EVER!
We are sisters.  We're both hairy.  We're both broke.  We're semi-alone in a hospital room and I have enough wax to wax something else.  Something major.
We (I) decided that she should be the waxee and, because I had waxing experience, I would be the waxer.  (She is such a logical thinker that it's really easy to persuade her that my way is really only the LOGICAL way to do things).  I don't remember what we moved in front of the door to lock it but we did make sure we wouldn't be barged in on.  Then, she bared her bikini line and I warmed up the wax strip.  I carefully pressed it on making sure to cover as much hair as I possibly could, we both took a deep breath and before she was ready, I yanked and ripped as hard as I could.  She doubled up in pain and let out a loud yelp.  I looked at the strip, doubled up too and let out a loud laugh.  The strip was completely bare!  No wax, no hair!!!  The wax had stuck to her pubic hair and that was rooted deep enough that it didn't budge. Not a single hair!
 After that, my mind goes blank.  I'm not sure how we removed the sticky hairy mess from her body.  Some things are best left me.  I'm sure she remembers it well.  A few years later when she came to visit me in Ft. Collins I took her to a salon called The Screaming Peach where she had a professional wax job....I heard her scream all the way in the lobby. I smiled to myself.