So, it’s 7:00 am and I’m in the bathroom, putting on my makeup before taking Princess BunHead to dance camp. I start with some concealer, and wonder, as I do every morning, if I can buy this in the industrial barrel size. I need to be dipped in a vat of concealer.
Everything goes along fine until I get to the foundation. I squeeze the tube and get a dribble of makeup out of it. I remember what I paid for this little tube and wonder, what makes this stuff so expensive? I should check the ingredients. Maybe it’s made from the cuticles of pregnant Siberian mountain goats. Anyway, I’m going to get every last molecule out of this tube, so I start squeezing up from the bottom.
Blurp. A fountain of foundation erupts over my makeup case, its contents, and the bathroom counter. If it had been crude oil, I’d be a millionaire. Apparently, the tube was nowhere near empty. “Was” being the operative word. Sigh.
I continue with my beauty routine until I drop my mascara brush. The bathroom counter is now wearing a layer of foundation, some spilled loose powder, a little blush, and mascara. It looks better than I do. Actually, on any given day, an old tractor tire looks better than I do. I consider adding some lipstick to the counter and sending it out to face my day, while I go back to bed.
Sigh again. While cleaning up my mess, I think, I am such a goombah. Then I realize I’ve been humming “Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven,” and I remember the line, “Well our feeble frame He knows.” I shake my head. Feeble ought to be my middle name. I wonder if the comedy of errors that is my life makes Him roll His eyes and smile? I mean, He must not mind that I’m a goombah. He made me this way.
An hour later, I glance in the rearview mirror of my car and see that my hair looks like broom that's been gnawed by beavers. How attractive. It seems that the little foundation episode caused me to forget to comb out my hair. Great. Now I'm a goombah with a haystack on my head. Sigh yet again.
Later, I drive by a church marquee that says, “The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous.” Yep, He saw me start my day with incompetence. He knows I’m a goombah. But because I’m covered by the blood of Christ, I’m a righteous goombah.
It doesn’t get any better than that.