One weekend, in an effort to escape the long hours of being a freelance writer, I traveled twenty minutes away to stay at my parents’ house. My sister, eager to share news of her second pregnancy, had also come into town. With our combined 3 children, all under the age of six, we dove into what would be another fun and relaxing two days of eating and chatting. Friday night, as usual, we stayed up late watching movies from our youth. I never get tired of Chevy Chase in his “vacation” comedies. As I type, I have a clear picture of him with white dress shoes and overly tan features. I am sure there are plenty of people out there who, like my family, look forward to Christmas Vacation like others look forward to eggnog or sugar cookies. It is our tradition and we treasure the laughs. This night was no different. We watched the movie as long as we could and laughed in sync to the same pranks and goofs that had hooked us twenty years ago. At about midnight, we both were asleep. She was in my dad’s recliner and I was on the leather couch. In retrospect, we should have had the good sense to retire to our respective bedrooms where we had tucked our children in just hours earlier. However, sleep took over and we remained sessile. After a fairly peaceful night’s rest, with cold air-conditioning and a fluffy warm quilt, I awoke to what felt like hairs brushing against my cheek. As I blinked and tried to see clearly, I realized that my five-year old daughter was standing over me with a blush brush in her hand. She said, “Mommy, I am fixing you up. I am doing your make-up today so you won’t have to.” I sat up and looked over at my sister and laughed uncontrollably. She was sound asleep and was covered with make-up. Her lips were covered in bright reddish orange lipstick and tan blush ran from the bottom of her jawbone to the top of her temple. Her eyelids had lilac eye shadow that extended well into her eyebrow. It was one of those moments that you wished your camera was handy. Apparently, our children woke early and my mother decided to let them play “make-up”. Asleep, we were available and non-protesting participants. After moments had passed, I realized that I probably should wake my sister and share another laugh that, surprisingly, didn’t involve Marty Moose, Wally World, or a dead aunt. I didn’t have to say much because when I woke her, she took one look at my face and had the same reaction I did. She looked at my features, which I had forgotten about, and burst into riotous laughter. We ran into the bathroom to view the train wrecks that were once our faces. I would compare our faces to crayons that melt in a hot car, a lot of color without any resemblance to former appearances. We had a good laugh at the moment and later we learned a new trick for removing make-up. Thankfully, my mother, who supplied the kids with their ammunition, also supplied us with a remedy. It was that day that I learned that Johnson’s baby shampoo was great for removing bright red clown lips.