If you’re just tuning in, we’re trying to sell our house. One evening following our 500th open house event, I went to remove the remains of the day, also known as my makeup.
My routine is simple. Step one, cleanse. Step two, moisturize. That’s it. Every now and then I add exfoliation between steps one and two. We’ll refer to it as step 1.5.
That evening, step one went off without a hitch. I reached for my jumbo size bottle of Dramatically Different Moisturizing Lotion, the linchpin of the Clinique skincare regimen.
It wasn’t in its place on the shelf. In the rush to prepare for the open house, where did I stash it? Hamper? Drawer? Basket?
Checked the other bathroom. Checked the trash. Looked everywhere, but it was nowhere to be found. Then it dawned on me: someone had stolen my Clinique during the open house!
The scoundrel walked into my bathroom, opened my medicine cabinet, plucked out my jumbo bottle, dropped it into her purse, and slipped out the door making a clean getaway. A smooth criminal with a silky complexion.
My real estate agent was devastated. The princess part of me felt like crying too. That bottle—the jumbo size offered only once a year, set me back $35!
All I could do was laugh. You can smile too, people. This is progress.
“How could you take someone else’s moisturizer?” I said to my BFF. “It’s a personal product. That’s just gross.”
“I’m sure,” she said, “the person who took it was thinking, ‘Oh, what a lovely house. What a clean bathroom. This moisturizer is so well taken care of. How nice it will be for my skin!'”
This is why she’s one of my BFFs. Extreme optimism with delicate peaches and cream skin to boot.
The thief was probably thinking more like, “This rich lady won’t miss a thing. And who cares if she does?”
First of all, we’re not rich. Did I mention we’re trying to unload our house?
Second, I did miss my Clinique and I do care. But I am no longer a princess. I am now the Queen and I will not die on a hill of department store cosmetics. It’s just a bottle of moisturizer. As my good friend Greg’s mother would say, God rest her soul, it’s not fatal.
Assuming a thief will return to the scene of the crime and our villain is a stylista, friends suggested we offer fragrance samples at our next open house. Do skin consultations at the door. Maybe set up a manicurist in the dining room.
We laughed. I bought more moisturizer. All was well with the world.
Until a few days later. As I progressed through my routine, I realized my Clinique 7-Day Scrub was missing too! Exfoliation step 1.5 down the drain.
I stared at myself in the mirror with my freshly washed, squeaky clean face. People are unbelievable, I thought. Just as depraved as I am.
For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Romans 3:23 NIV
Did you like the link to Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal? Then you must see this version by Luka Sulic and Stjepan Hauser. Amazing. And on cellos! Thanks to my friend Jared for the lead to catch these guys.
Aimee,
Thanks for quoting my mom. Those are words to live by. But if I were you, I’d put some type of tracking device in there and catch them red handed! Or replace the good stuff with something less good…you get the idea.
You have a real gift for writting!!!!! Thanks for using it.
Love you guys!
Greg
Okay, here’s the plan. I need you and Teresa to catch the next flight out. You can help us install said device or boobie trap the medicine cabinet. I suppose we’d get in too much trouble if we put a dummy-bottle of moisturizer out laced with poison ivy or something, huh?
Thanks for sharing the stories about your mom. I know you miss her.
And thanks for reading. Love you guys, too!
I read this to my sister. We are equally appalled. She said, “I kept waiting for her to find out where she’d misplaced it. Someone really does this??” Eeeew. You are indeed a good woman for being able to let this go – I’d be having dreams of a CSI team coming in to take fingerprints, tracking down the culprit and finding some suitable form of public humiliation. Perhaps you could put one out on the counter with a large “tester” sticker on it as well.
Tell your sister I kept waiting to find where I’d misplaced it too! I still am! Though I don’t think I’ll ever see it again.
It is really disgusting! A friend told me her parents had the same thing happen to them. Only they live in an area full of retirees. Apparently it’s worse there! Unbelievable…
You mentioned CSIs. Do teams exist for this sort of thing? You know, CSI-Estee Lauder, CSI-Lancome, CSI-MAC, etc. If so, send CSI-Clinique on over.
What are you saying, Cheryl? Lol! I’d be out with guns blazing if they touched that necklace…
I am so sorry Aimee but that is too funny! It’s a cry for help. At least it wasn’t your favorite necklace. Still laughing.