Story Time [1] – The Missing Eyebrow

When I was four, I noticed that my mom’s eyebrows were thinner than mine. Of course, I didn’t know how this came about I just know that if mom’s eyebrows looked like that then mine should too. So in the infinite wisdom that comes with being a small child, I took my safety scissors and proceeded to remove my right eyebrow. I did this completely blind because I did not have a mirror and I couldn’t very well do this in the bathroom for the following reason

  • Safety scissors are for paper
  • My face is not paper

So instead I hid under the bar and I divested myself of half of my facial hair. After I was done, I heard my mom approaching and immediately had an “Oh no” moment. I could not pull off any sort of “nothing happened” because again

  • I am missing all or most of my right eyebrow

Fortunately, daycare had come through for me. I had a sticker on my shirt. In a stroke of genius, I removed the sticker and used it to pick up all the little eyebrow hairs on the floor. I then showed my mother the sticker and explained how I had put it on my face, thereby avoiding trouble. Mission Accomplished, right?

Except that

  • I was obviously lying.
  • Waxed eyebrows look entirely different from cut ones
  • Eyebrows are all over the sticker
  • In no way is sticker adhesive strong enough to remove an entire eyebrow
  • Especially a used sticker

Why didn’t I get into trouble?

Are you kidding me I was missing an eyebrow and had obviously learned my lesson because guess who never did that again (me. The answer is me).

Hopefully this story brings as much joy as it brings me.

Love and smiles,

Image source:


The Book


The story I am about to relate to you is in part about my ability to remember vast amounts of information (typically through reading) and in part about my brother’s first foray into the sea of sarcasm.

About nine years ago, when I was twelve and Cameron was nine, I had shared some tidbit about something that I had somehow read about somewhere.  Where, I could never remember. This wasn’t the first time I had shared a sourceless yet true fact, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last; I am a treasure trove of probably useless information.  Anyway, when asked where I had learned such a fact, Cameron had piped up with highly exaggerated air quotes and said, “She read it in The Book.”

The two words, “The Book,” contained nine years of pent-up sarcasm that had finally matured enough to be used properly.  Doing so had become this sort of rite of passage that was commemorated by the immortalization of the phrase.  Now, when asked where I picked up one fact or another (if I can’t remember the source), I simply say The Book, and the fact is appropriately processed, discussed, accepted, and we move on. 

Meanwhile, Cameron, now 17, has unfurled the sails of his own Ship of Sass, and expertly navigates the Sea of Sarcasm on the regular.

Until next time,