This morning I was making my lunch, as I do on any work day. I'm organised like that; make sarnies in the morning and I don't have to forage for food at lunchtime.
Anyway, as I was buttering my bread I looked up and saw my wife gazing at me with a lovely smile on her face.
And I smiled back and thought: "What a lucky guy I am."
And then I saw her eyes moving over my face and I said: "You're checking me for residual make-up, aren't you?"
"Yes," she said.
What a lucky guy I am.
Yes, I was off out trannying last night, and managed to do another cliche. Strictly it's one I've done before, a long time ago at a dressing service, but that's one best left forgotten, far back in the mists of time. This time I did it well. And Mrs Rachel did it too. No pictures of that, though. Not for you lot, anyway :-)
But to return to the original theme of this post, there's no residual makeup, but both Mrs Rachel and I still have red staining on our fingers from the nail varnish we wore. We really are going to have to find a better quality red varnish. I can't use the "I've been painting model soldiers again" excuse every time ...