When one of your parents has super-dry, sensitive skin and the other has oily skin, it’s pretty easy to determine who is to blame for your own complexion. And guess who the culprit is? It’s Pappy by a nose! (Heh.) All told, I’ve been blessed with an oily mug, freckles, and curly hair as punishment for being the spawn of a greasy Presbyterian minister and a fair family social scientist. But do not cry for me, for retribution was mine! Last night, as penitence for passing down Exxon Valdez skin, I made Pappy use my Proactiv Refining Mask. We splashed water on our faces, slathered on the clay-like goop, and waited 10 minutes for a miracle to happen. The mask is white and Pappy suggested we might wear it from now on in a nod to The Virgin Queen. I took a picture of our shellacked faces but deleted it because it was simply too mortifying for the bright lights of the webernets.
Pappy hemmed and hawed about participating in the beauty ritual but you should have heard him this morning. “Oh, I’m Pappy! I can really tell a difference in how my face feels! It cleared my pores! How much do you think that mask costs? I think I may get some and use it once a week from now on!” Bwahahahahaa! BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!