My mother's account of last Sunday....
On Sunday I invited a bunch of friends over for a barbeque. This is my favorite way to entertain, bringing friends together and not spending too much unnecessary time with the cooking deal. Anyway, before anyone arrived, I decided to tackle a fixit job that has been bothering me for at least two years. I must say that the only reason I decided to tackle this job one half hour before everyone arrived is because I am very shallow and wanted to impress my oldest grade school friend's husband who had never been to my house before. My regular buddies could care less about the dysfunctional wood floor trim in my living room, as it is far less annoying than some of the other dysfunctional fixit jobs that I've put off, but I'm kind of tired of the dog charging around the living room, dining room and kitchen at 65 mph using the trim as his personal skate board. Between the dog, the grandkids and an overzealous cleaning crew, the wood trim was becoming a priority or a lawsuit.
So back to the barbeque. I got on my hands and knees scraping glue from the floor and the underside of the trim. The vacuuming scares the dog who thinks it's the enemy launching an attack on him. More running, barking and chaos. When I was ready to put the "liquid glue" onto the trim, I used my fingers and was very pleased at the beauty of my work. The job was done, and not too shabbily, but now I had about half an hour to clean myself up before my friends arrived. I read the label on the tube and there were no instructions about cleaning up the gunk from the hands, so I went into the bathroom, grabbed some soap and began scrubbing. Nothing took the stuff off. I got a brush, scrubbed my hands and fingers. The skin on my fingers were scraping off and bleeding, but the stuff wasn't.
Since my daughter who is the founder of her own beauty products business (Product Body, I'm proud to announce), she has in her lovely and quiet way, filled my bathrooms with all of her wonderful products (4 bathrooms all told). I looked on the vanity and saw Crush On You pumpkin cinnamon scrub. I am a gal from the 60's. We used oils, creams, but never scrubs. I don't think there were any scrubs. So, although these lovely products surround me in the bathrooms, I have failed to grab the scrubs and use them (my husband likes them, he reports). Now I was pretty desperate so I dipped into the scrub (ummmm, smells good enough to eat) and washed my hands with it. Not only did it remove all the black gunk on my fingers and hands (these lovelies were clean), but they felt softer than they ever had. What a kick.
Now I know my sweet daughter will believe me because I am too depressed over Dan Fogelberg's death to lie. Thank you, Crush on You.
The picture of Natalie Wood looks like my mom when she was 20.
Nice to know she finally tried the stuff after THREE YEARS! :)
Thanks, Mom....I love you!