It's So Not a Blob

So, Friday was the School Carnival. I capitalize it because, as any parent and/or child knows, it is The Event Of The Season. It is the event that children quiver in anticipation of, and parents quiver in fear of. Because, as we all know, you can’t have a School Carnival without volunteers. And we all know how much fun THAT is, volunteering at the School Carnival. To me, it’s the equivalent of cleaning my grout in the bathroom…with a toothbrush. Oh, the joy.

Many, many years ago, I somehow got suckered into volunteering at the Face Painting booth at the School Carnival. I pleaded and whined and cried that I had absolutely NO artistic abilities at all – to no avail. I then threw myself down and beat my fists, wailing and moaning, hoping against hope that the shock value alone of a grown woman on the floor would make them change their minds. It didn’t. I was a warm body, and that was good enough.

The evening of the School Carnival, I gamely sat myself down in the artist chair and thought, “How hard can this be? Surely I can draw hearts and balloons, right?” My first victim – oops, I mean customer – sat down and immediately asked for a little white pony.

“Ummm….how about a nice red heart instead?” I suggested.

“I WANT A PONY! NOW!” the little monster screamed.

So, I picked up the paints and did my best rendition of Flicka on a Face. Not easy on paper – but imagine working on a cheek that has two square inches, at most, of drawing room. And the cheek is moving, no matter how many times I told it to hold still.

When I was finished, I held up the mirror to the little "angel" so they could admire my artistic abilities.

“THAT doesn’t look like a pony! It looks like a….a….BLOB!”

Now, I’m not an art student, but even my untrained eye could see that this wasn’t a blob. It was a…well….a whitish “thingy” on a cheek.

After three more dissatisfied customers left my booth with unidentified colorful thingies on their cheeks, the School Carnival Coordinator pulled me from Face Painting and put me on the Cake Walk.

Now, THAT, I could handle.

Peace.