A Peppa Pig sticker. Harmless you may think but no, beware of any child wanting to adorn your body with George, Candy Cat, Pedro Pony or the dreaded Pig!
A normal evening of sticker fun ends in Mummy tears.
My boys love stickers. Spiderman, Blaze, Paw Patrol, Ben and Holly…they are all now stuck strategically throughout the house on the kid’s furniture, chairs, books, fridge, and pushbikes – Fireman Sam is even giving you the thumbs up as he stares at you from the toilet basin. In our house, you can’t escape stickers.
Providing H and D don’t stick them to anything major I mostly don’t mind them playing with stickers. Most peel off easily and the boys love flicking through sticker books, finding the right place to pop the character and sticking it there.
Peppa Pig nearly ruins a wedding.
My best friends were getting married last July and I was flying home (kid-free) to be a bridesmaid. I have known the bride and groom for many years and I was excited, I even joined Slimming World and lost over a stone to mark the occasion. The wedding was to be a big affair by all accounts, held in a fancy castle in Shropshire. I was to wear a beautiful handmade Indian lehenga.
The day I was to fly out was fast approaching. We are lucky in Turkey, girly stuff like hair, manicures, and pedicures are a fraction of the price of back home. I was due to fly home on the 20th July so a week before I was set to leave I had the full works. I felt good. Mummy’s silver highlights had turned to an alluring shade of deep-brown, nails were nicely filed and French manicured and my eyebrows an attractive, perfectly plucked crescent.
The fateful sticker day.
Two days before leaving was fateful sticker day. On fetching the boys from creche they were their normal boisterous selves. They were overtired and wanted to play-up after dinner. My Hubby had gone to work. A friend had kindly left a pack of assorted Peppa Pig stickers that I had stashed away for a bored kid occasion, this qualified. I dug them out, armed the boys with said stickers and carried on filling the dishwasher.
“Look Mummy”, Dominik said, “this is a really big Peppa Pig.” He ran over to show me and before I knew it he had stuck it on my face. It was indeed a big pig. Moments earlier they had been watching Jake and the Neverland Pirates and pretending to wear an eye-patch so, on bending down to talk to him he thought it would be great fun to give Mummy an eye-patch too. Within seconds the top of my right cheek, half my eye and the majority of my eyebrow were covered in stickiness. I thought nothing of it. I let the boys stick a number of other well-loved characters on my arms clothes and chin. They soon got bored (Blaze had come on TV), so the moment was short lived and they ran off in search of something more exciting.
But it was then, on trying to rip the stickers off that I realised, these weren’t you’re normal easy peel stickers, these stickers were truly stuck!
I ripped off the ones on my arm, and the ones on my T-shirt came off easily. But on ripping the one across my eye I felt pain. It was that sort of pain you get when you have your eyebrows waxed. I looked at the back of the sticker and yes, there amongst the sticky gunk was half my nicely threaded brow. The buggers! Bloody Peppa Pig…I was now verging on browless looking like some strange lop-eyed emoji! A trip to the bathroom and my worst fears were confirmed, I was down to less than a third of my right brow with only days left until the wedding of the year.
Browless and looking ridiculous.
“Why are you upset Mummy?” said Harvey as I came out of the bathroom, fuming and clutching the now hairy Peppa Pig sticker. “Look!,” I said pointing at it. “What?” he said looking confused. I pointed at my hairless brow, “You look silly Mummy!” he said… simply perfect!
It was one of those moments where you either laugh or cry. I gave them a little lecture on how we were never to stick stickers on Mummy’s face again, or anyone else’s face for that matter, and eventually, I calmed down. On returning from work later that evening, Hubby found the whole thing hysterical (which irritated me!). “Just draw it back on,” he said flippantly as if it was that easy – but that was my only option, and that’s exactly what I had to do!
Come the day of the wedding I was thankful that the bride allowed me a little time with her make-up artist. These girls work wonders. My badly drawn on slug, which really did make me look ridiculous, was expertly coloured and contoured into an almost passable brow. My appearance at the wedding didn’t let the gorgeous bride down, the rain subsided and the day was beautiful.
It’s over three months since the Peppa Pig incident and I am happy to announce I am once again with brow. I am however very cautious when the boys are playing with stickers and come running over wielding them in my face. My advice to any parent of a sticker obsessed toddler or pre-schooler is beware…it’s very easy to fall prey to the brow stealing stickiness of Peppa, Candy Cat and their evil sticky friends!
Has anything like this happened to you? Maybe I’ve stumbled across a gap in the market, the Peppa Pig giants should really include a range of PP waxing products aimed at Mums?
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