I have eye shadow on my floor...
And ground deep into our rug.
Girlfriend went to the park with it smeared from eyeball to chin...
I had given her strict, "I don't know where you got that but you don't use it by yourself," rules.
And of course, she didn't listen.
So when I found her covered in eyeshadow and lipstick, I took it from her and threw it out.
Except, that wasn't that for me.
That pile of eyeshadow crumbs on the floor makeup haunted me all day... Because it didn't matter enough to me to pick up right away.
That's the truth... I was mad, but not so mad that I had time to pick it up right away, because it just didn't matter in the grand scheme of things ya know??
In fact... I even stopped to take a picture of the damn eyeshadow before I cleaned it up. Seriously... what is my problem??
I mean who gives a shit about a little eyeshadow on the floor?
Not me apparently... but then... why did I get mad at my doll??
So the eyeshadow didn't matter after all... but you know what did matter??
The important stuff... Feeding the kids, baths, two play dates, the sprinkler, dinner, frozen, ice cream, getting tucked in... Four times. Each.
All these things were more important than the still mashed in eye shadow...
And I am only slightly embarrassed to admit that its still there... On the carpet... AND the tile.
That's how little I care... even though I was mad at Girlfriend when she did it, I realize that it honestly doesn't even matter.
So you know what I did...
I dug into the trash... And I handed Girlfriend back her makeup.
I gave her a talk about how we only do this stuff with grownups and how I was proud of her for knowing she had done wrong and not throwing a fit (seriously folks... Three year old girl tantrums are legit and this was a huge victory.)
Then... I sat down and said "Okay... go ahead, Do my makeup."
But I call it perspective.