I went to visit Mom last night after rehearsal and asked if I could take my makeup off with her makeup remover. No problem. She followed me into the bathroom, giving me all of two inches of personal space, got out the goods, and proceeded to cottonball my eye liner off without any warning.
I think like when you give birth, you clean your baby all the time b/c all they can do is lie on their back and wave their limbs feebly? My mom never got over that stage. She like bent my face toward the sink and pointed to the soap I should use (which was the only soap out, duh), and then, unsatisfied with how I washing suds-ing my cheeks, pushed my hands a way, and soaped my face. I dunno. It’s very Korean Mom, to have this sense of ownership on a kid’s appearance, this utter lack of regard for any kind of boundary. And as we co-washed my face, I tried explaining that I actually wash my face 364 nights of the year. “What about the fifth one?” she asked. “Well, I’m here for the fifth one.” But instead of assuming that Mom thinks I’m mentally retarded, I decided to go with it and pretend I was at a spa. Ahhh.