Don't get me wrong here: as a Mumma to three little tackers, I had blessed little time before Charlie's accident. (Some would say fuck all, to be frank).
But amazingly, I did used to manage to wash my hair and shave my bits and have a weekly appointment for "nice things that ladies like" kinda treatment, with the gorgeous girls down at Body By Sharon, my local beauty salon, in a nearly suburb, aptly named, Paradise.
Anyway, now that Charlie is home, and things are returning to their more normal and predictable groove, my weekly appointments can resume! Yay!
- Chinny-chin-chin wax
- Hair cut/re-style
On the one hand I feel shamingly superficial for getting off on my grooming, but these days I adore the tizzying. I really do love it.
(It took me about 38 years to realise I was worth pampering. I am now making up for lost time. Superficial it might be, but if sparkly feet make me happier, then money and time well spent I say!)
As I was typing this, I got a real sense of déjà vu.
You know why?
'Cos of this post here!
Can you tell I am addicted to grooming?!
Are you? Tell me what makes you feel like a goddess groomed?