MACKEY CHRONICLES | "Her Masterpiece"

I watch from the kitchen as a small pair of blue eyes slowly peer over the counter top, focused on one target. Rachel. Placed on my hip, Rachel watches with delight as Hannah's face reaches over the counter, followed by her newest weapon. A magic stud finder. Okay, so maybe not technically magic- but it's complete with a red laser light and beeping sounds. What more does a kid need?

Before Rachel and I can mount a plan of resistance, the red laser is pointed in Rachel's direction. A beeping sound is all we hear before the bad news is announced, "Rachel is dead!".

"No! Not Rachel!!" I cry in mock horror, wrapping my arms tightly around a bewildered Rachel. I bury my head into Rachel's body, letting loud, obnoxious sobs break free. More beeping. "Rachel's alive!", Hannah says.

My over exaggerated joy & relief brings smiles of joy, and cackles of delight from both the girls. Which only results in more death by stud finder and more magical resurrections. Over and over and over again...

Until Hannah relinquishes the powerful stud finder in exchange for something much better...a baster. You may think that a baster is nothing so wonderful. But in the hands of a master beautician, it becomes the all-in-one makeover brush. And mom becomes her blank slate. The flexible bristles work wonders as she carefully applies invisible eye shadow, blush, lip gloss, and even takes time to brush back the stray hair protruding from my once-perfect hair. She works slowly, accepting occasional help from her eager assistant Rachel, until Mom is nothing short than a Masterpiece....in the invisible sense of the word.

But who needs invisible? Not Hannah. Not when a lip gloss applicator is discovered. But what use is an applicator without the lip gloss. So...now I sit, surrounded by my two most favorite girls...while my lips are artistically stained shades of pink and purple. And by "artistically stained", I mean "randomly globbed".

Before long, my lips are literally painted shut. I find my eyes glancing often towards the quickly diminishing container of lip gloss, expecting to find it empty. But as Hannah leads me to the mirror, I can't help wishing I could open my mouth to smile, because the look on her face is golden. I am her masterpiece. Pure and simple. And she is mine.