I am a beauty product junkie. I love to try all kinds of new makeup, skin products and items that claim to preserve youth and beauty. I especially love travel kits that usually come with multiple smaller size products from the same line, all wrapped together in an adorable travel bag. I get lost for hours in stores like Ulta and Sephora.
After a successful shopping trip one afternoon, I was especially excited to try a new product that I had picked up. It was a cooling peel-off face mask made with apple, lemon and green tea from a company called Befine. The package said it would “enhance skin renewal and restore elasticity.” I thought that sounded great and couldn’t wait to feel the cooling sensation as it dried on my face.
As the day went on, I grew busy with normal activities and it wasn’t until I announced to my boys it was time to get ready for bed that I remembered I had a new beauty product to try. Always the multi-tasking mom, I decided that I could wash my face and apply the mask while my boys got ready and I could proceed as usual with the bedtime routine.
The mask was great, it smelled great, was sticky but once I applied it to my face, the air cooled it, just as promised. It was refreshing, relaxing almost. Even as I ran from room to room checking on the boys and their progress with brushing their teeth and changing into pajamas, it was almost relaxing. After about fifteen minutes it was time to peel it off. I figured that I could quickly get the mask off before putting my 3-year-old to bed. I didn’t think anything of it as he followed me to my bathroom, trailing my every step. As I began to peel the mask off my face, he started to tell me some story about his day.
Attentively, I faced him to listen and continued to peel off the mask. His run-on sentence stopped abruptly when he saw what I was doing. His eyes grew big and he threw his hands over his mouth making a muffled “Yuck” sound then he ran out of the room.
As I looked at myself in the mirror, I realized that the mask was clear. The peeled-off portion looked like skin does when you have a horrific sunburn and the top layer pulls away. Initially, I thought his reaction was funny until I realized that my 3-year-old thinks that my skin comes off.
I quickly finished what I was doing with my face and went to put him to bed, anxious to put the whole thing behind us. When I entered his room, up went his hands to his mouth and the same “Yuck” sound came out. I sat down by his bed but he wouldn’t come near me. Even with only the glow of his baseball nightlight, he was afraid to look at my face.
I tried to explain that my skin was still on and that it was fine but he maintained the confused look on his face. After a while he warmed back up to me, snuggled close and fell asleep.
Thankfully, by morning he seemed to forget all about the early Halloween scare. I learned a lesson. No more beauty rituals with an audience. What a price to pay for beauty.
Edited by Malu Banuelos