Dearly Departed

On Wednesday night, I said a fond farewell to my new eyelashes. Oh, it was a sad night. I really loved those eyelashes. They served me well.
They always seemed to fall off pretty easily. They would drop if I sneezed too hard, turned my head too quickly, or batted my eyelashes at my sweetie. Okay, so maybe I exaggerate a little, but not much. After two weeks of swimming at Mom and Dad's, they were pretty sparse. I had about ten on each eye. Mom said I looked like a mutant. So, rather than pay full price to have them completely redone, and feeling a little self-conscious about looking like a science experiment, I decided to "help" them come off.
With Jeff soundly asleep, I went into our bathroom and began gently, and I mean gently, pulling them off. They came off pretty easily, or so I thought. As I looked into the sink at all of those fabulous lashes that had just ended their luscious mortal reign on my eyes, imagine the horror when I looked closely and noticed my own, natural lashes attached to the other end. I started to whimper a little, looked up at my eyes and started to panic. I turned off the light and jumped into bed, acting as if I had accidentally been caught smoking behind the barn.

Jeff, in his groggy stupor, asked me what was wrong. I innocently told him that I had decided to remove my lashes. In his sleepy state, he thought I was sad about not wanting to spend the money to upkeep this new found love. The next morning, fully awake, he realized the awful truth. He saw the nubbins, where once long, glorious lashes used to reside.

So, when you see me, please be kind. So far, no one has said anything. Either most people never noticed my new, long, fake lashes when they were there, or I have really nice friends. I will choose to assume the later.