Aftermath of Hurricane Athena

The cloying citrus scent assaulted my nostrils and shook me out of my drug-induced drowsiness. Like a ferocious dog, it chased away the side effects of the two 25 mg meclizine, anti-dizziness, tablets I had taken earlier that day. Scrambling out of bed in panic, I called out for my children. They came running in.  I looked them up and down and they seemed to be OK. No cuts, bruises, and broken bones. Nothing was burning. Good. I must have been dead to the world for two hours. I saw empty cereal bowls on the table. My son informed me that he already fed his sister. I smiled gratefully and ruffled his hair. Still I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Then I saw the mess.

Athena, my three-year-old daughter, had given her Sleeping Beauty Barbie a makeover. Toilet paper was strewn all over the floor. On a small table  in their bedroom was my comb, a pair of scissors, and some strands of blond hair. There was my son’s cologne, Johnson’s Citrus Scent. Empty. My eskinol-type facial cleanser was there,too. Not a drop was left inside. And my newly bought Oil of Olay Total Effects. Third one she’s wasted. Sleeping Beauty Barbie was as slick as a greased pig. My beautician wannabe daughter had slathered my facial cream all over her doll’s hair and clothes then pumped out the rest into her cup. See the milky liquid inside a pink cup with handles on both sides? See the pink bendy straw inside the cup? I suspected that the baby cologne and the facial cleanser were also squirted into that cup. O, how she loves to squirt things. What exactly was she planning to do with the cosmetic cocktail that she had mixed? Scary thought.

I shook my head and started picking things up. Athena hovered around with an anxious look on her face, expecting me to give her another of my lectures. Nothing. I just kept shaking my head. I need to hide my things better. This was one time when I couldn’t say anything. I felt defeated.