The Woman Who Is Always Tan and Has a Flat Stomach

by Lauren Allison

  “Oh, Daddy! You’re right!” Caroline gushed. “It’s a surprise! We ordered some new sports channels for you!”

  Amazing. She would have cracked like an egg the minute he asked her about new carpeting. Purely on the basis of genetics, I would have expected better from her. Oh, well, she was still young.

  Flipping through all the new channels, Michael was a happy guy for the next three days. I made a mental note that the next redecorating we’ll do will be to build a soundproof booth for him to watch TV without me.

  When the night of the annual party arrived, I was ready. All the women oohed and aahed over the changes. None of the men noticed anything except the new channels. We all had a great evening.

  While we were cleaning up after everyone had left, Michael talked about the evening. “I received loads of compliments on all your new decorating. The house looks beautiful, and I appreciate all the hard work you and your designer put in on it.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “I thought you didn’t notice a thing. How long have you known?”

  “Well,” he replied, “I saw your list shortly after we talked about redecorating, about a year ago. And, well, I waved to the carpet guys when I left for work that day. But you get so much more done when you think you are sneaking around that I thought it would be best if I played along. I do think you paid too much for that dining room mirror, though.” He laughed as he wandered off to bed.

  I just smiled. After all, a man’s house is his castle.

  31

  The Perfect Feng Shui Woman Who Has a Bagua Map and Knows How to Use It

  The other day I had to run by another mom’s home to drop off material for the next PTA meeting. As I walked up to the front door, I noticed a beautiful hyacinth wreath hanging on the door with exquisite topiary on either side. When she answered the door, I handed over the materials to her, but before I left, I commented on the entrance to her home.

  “Oh, Lauren,” she enthused, “everyone knows that a hyacinth wreath placed at your front door will bring vital energy into your home. You know, it’s feng shui, the study of how to arrange your environment to enhance your life. You use a bagua map to chart where each of the major areas of your life is represented in your home. Come on in and I’ll show you.”

  Following her in, I immediately felt a sense of peace and tranquility. I could hear the sound of water running over rocks. She said, “Every piece of furniture and every object has been strategically placed in a way which gives rise to the steady movement of chi, or energy, through the house.”

  I was impressed.

  She continued, “Since I had my house redone by a feng shui consultant, you wouldn’t believe the changes in our lives. My mother, who lives with us, had a deadly disease but after she hung a crystal at her bedroom window, she was cured. After we placed purple curtains in my son’s room, he made the varsity football team as a freshman in high school, and he’d never even played football before. And we moved the position of the bed in the master bedroom; after that, my husband was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.”

  Now I was really impressed. I asked, “What is a bagua map?”

  “Oh,” she said, “it’s how you map out various rooms in your house according to important aspects of life, including health, wealth, and happiness. The bagua map charts the energy each of these aspects of life gathers in your home.”

  I decided that I had to get my hands on her feng shui consultant. I asked for her number.

  “Oh,” she said, “she’s on a trip around the world. But you could hire someone else or do it yourself.”

  I thought to myself, “Well, how hard can it be? I’ll just save some money on a consultant and instead buy a book and feng shui my own way to health and happiness.”

  Since Michael was going to be away on a business trip for a few days, I thought it would be the perfect time to implement a few changes around the house.

  I started the second day he was gone, and got everything done that morning. I was pleased with the results. Later that afternoon my neighbor, who works as a nurse, stopped by.

  She said, “Lauren, I see you have placed tiny mirrors around some of your trees in the front yard. What are you doing?”

  “Well,” I said smugly. “Everyone knows that you need to enhance the important people and travel aspects of your bagua map, and there’s no better way to do it than to place mirrors around your fruit trees at ninety-degree angles.”

  She replied, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  I spoke as an authority. “You know, feng shui. Come on in, I’ll show you how I’ve enhanced the chi energy in my house. I did it while Michael was out of town—he should be back soon.”

  When we walked into the house, the front door banged as it failed to open all the way. My neighbor said, “That’s odd. Your front door won’t open all the way.”

  “Well,” I said with a ring of superiority, “that’s because I moved the bed from the master bedroom down here to the front hall.”

  She said, “I don’t understand what you’re saying now, either.”

  I turned sideways to get in through the front door. She followed.

  “See,” I said proudly. “I moved our bed down from the master bedroom into the front hall of the house. Now the chi energy can’t escape through the front door. Besides, I needed the space in the master bedroom since that is the wealth and prosperity area on our bagua map. I needed to remove the bed to make way for something that really needed to be there.”

  She said, “What could be more important in a bedroom than a bed?”

  I said defensively, “A giant rock.”

  “You put a giant rock in your bedroom instead of a bed?”

  “Yes, and I painted it red, to attract greater wealth into our lives.”

  She said, “Are you dizzy or feeling faint? Can you lift up your arms and stick out your tongue at the same time? Try and smile for me, would you?”

  I knew she was checking to make sure I hadn’t had a stroke.

  I said irritably, “I’m fine. It’s just that I’m into feng shui right now. This stuff really works.”

  “No, really. When was your last checkup? Have you had your blood pressure taken recently? No, wait. I’ll just go home and get my cuff.”

  She left in a hurry.

  Just then I heard the garage door go up. In a few moments, Michael walked in. He was rubbing his eyes and squinting.

  I said, “Welcome back! What’s wrong with your eyes?”

  He said, “Hi, honey. I don’t know what happened, but when I turned into our driveway I saw a piercing flash of light.”

  “Oh,” I said. “That must have been from the sun reflecting off the mirrors I placed around the fruit trees out front.”

  “I don’t understand what you just said.”

  “Guess what! I changed our house all around to enhance the energy flow and attract happiness and prosperity into our lives.”

  “Oh, great,” he said. “But first, I’ve got to tell you what happened during this business trip.”

  “Not before you see the giant rock in our bedroom,” I said, leading him through the kitchen.

  “I didn’t understand what you said that time either.”

  “You need to see the giant rock I put in our bedroom,” I said loudly and slowly, as if he were deaf. Why was this so hard to understand?

  He said, “No, really, me first. Thursday, I was at this meeting and nothing was going right. My cell phone had no reception, I told my clients to come to the wrong address, my cab broke down, everything went wrong. The clients said they had no interest in working with me. Then this morning, everything started to change. And by noon I had landed the account. I’ve never seen such a complete turnaround in my life.”

  I said, “I know exactly why that happened.”

  He speculated, “Do you think it’s because of my personality—you know, my ability to win people over?”

  “Of course not. It’s because I had a giant rock
put in our bedroom and painted it red.”

  He stared at me. Then he said, “Honey, try lifting your arms and sticking out your tongue at the same time.”

  “I’m not having a stroke,” I said irritably. “Come into the front hall. I moved our bed in here, so the chi energy of the house can’t escape. It’s feng shui. That’s why you had such a great meeting.”

  “You mean you used feng shui to change our house around, and you think that’s why my meeting went well?”

  “Well, of course. I made all these changes this morning and was done by noon. Don’t you think that’s a bit of a coincidence?”

  “Maybe you’re on to something here.”

  Several hours later, we got into bed and fell asleep right away.

  Suddenly the front door opened and hit our bed. We both woke up, startled. My neighbor slid in sideways through the door.

  “Sorry it took me so long. I finally found my blood pressure cuff. So any dizziness, shortness of breath?”

  “You don’t realize that I used feng shui to change the physical health and well-being area on our bagua map, which would make it virtually impossible for me to have a stroke right now.”

  “Just give me your arm,” she snapped.

  I guess I’ll have to work on the friendship and relationship area on my bagua map. Some people just don’t get it.

  32

  The Woman with the Angelina Jolie Lips

  Michael and I were watching an awards show one evening and saw Angelina and Brad walk up the red carpet. I said, “Gosh, I’d love to look like Angelina Jolie.”

  Michael said, “Well, she is very beautiful,” trying his best to sound noncommittal.

  After seeing an infomercial for the Amazing Lip Enlarging Lip Gloss for the fifty-fourth time, I decided to give it a try. It arrived by mail the promised eight weeks later.

  I put some on one evening before Michael came home. It took about five minutes for me to see some results, but I thought my lips looked a little poutier, a little sexier, and I was pleased.

  When Michael arrived, I showed off my new lips to him. “Gosh, they do look a little swollen.”

  “Really?” I quizzed. “Great!”

  Michael picked up the lip gloss tube and said, “There’s an emergency number on here. I wonder what that’s for.”

  “Oh, it’s probably just a number for reordering the lip gloss.”

  That weekend we went to a party at our neighbor’s house. As I joined a group of women, one said, “Lauren, you look different. What have you done? You look great!”

  “Well,” I replied, “I’m wearing the Amazing Lip Enlarging Lip Gloss. It kind of stings, but I think it’s worth it to have plumper lips.”

  Everyone totally agreed.

  “I’d love to try some of your lip stuff if you don’t mind,” one friend said.

  “So would I,” said another.

  We all trooped into the master bathroom and stood at the mirror, applying the Amazing Lip Enlarging Lip Gloss like a bunch of teenagers.

  When we went back to the party, we all had plumper lips.

  Our husbands thought it was great, and, believe it or not, some couples even started kissing.

  The trouble didn’t begin until thirty minutes later, when one of the husbands complained that his lips wouldn’t stop itching. What a whiner! On another man’s neck a red welt was beginning to form. Of course, the men started to panic.

  More and more of the husbands started to complain. We finally figured out it was the Amazing Lip Enlarging Lip Gloss. The men were about to call the paramedics, when Michael remembered the number on the side of the tube.

  I went into the kitchen, called the number, and a woman answered, “Amazing Lip Enlarging Lip Gloss hotline, can I help you?”

  “I have twenty people here with welts all over their faces and necks. We think it’s your lip gloss.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sakes, just try putting some butter on it, and you’ll be fine. This happens all the time, don’t get excited.”

  “Don’t get excited?” I asked. “The people here hate me. This has lawsuit written all over it.”

  “Didn’t you read our disclaimer in Field and Stream? We aren’t responsible for any rashes, swelling, or skin rot of any kind.” She hung up.

  I grabbed a couple of sticks of butter out of the refrigerator and raced back to the party.

  “I have the antidote,” I announced, “and it’s butter!”

  Everyone applied the butter and the excitement was over.

  As we were lying in bed that night, Michael said, “Do you still want to look like Angelina Jolie?”

  “No, I’ve decided it would be easier for you to just look like Brad Pitt.”

  “No problem. I can match his lips any day.”

  33

  The Designer Uncle Who Insists on a Biedermeier Master Bedroom for Caroline’s Barbie House

  Michael,” I said, “I’m worried about your brother.”

  “Why, what’s wrong?”

  “Since he decided he wanted to present Caroline with a Barbie house for the holidays, he’s been obsessed.”

  “He’s not obsessed! It’s just that when David decided to go into interior design, he wanted to do something for Caroline.”

  “But he keeps referring to Barbie as his ‘client.’ Since Mario Buatta took him on as a protégé and they worked together on the Kips Bay Showhouse, it seems he’s had a little difficulty distinguishing between fantasy and reality.”

  “Well, you know that was a big project for him: he just adores Mario.”

  “Yes, but Barbie has been living in a shoebox for the past three years, and now she needs terrazzo tile for her entryway? And she needs them cut into one-half-inch pieces at the cost of $125 an hour by a tile setter?”

  “Well, he said it’s his treat for Caroline. Besides, he can get everything wholesale. My only complaint is that he’s put on the work schedule for me to re-grout Barbie’s master bathroom floor next Friday. And I don’t think it matters that much to Barbie.”

  “See, now you’re doing it, too. You’re talking about Barbie as if she’s real.”

  “I just want her to like her new house,” he said softly, as if he were Ty Pennington and Barbie were getting a new house from Extreme Makeover.

  Later that day, David walked in after spending the day picking out window treatments for Barbie’s house. He had been explaining to Caroline something about swags and jabots.

  “Oh, David, I finished the needlepoint rug for the Barbie house guest bedroom. Do you like it?” I asked while proudly showing him the rug, which measured three by four inches.

  “Oh, my goodness, Lauren,” he said. “Didn’t you get last night’s memo?”

  “What memo?”

  “I sent out a memo to everyone last night saying that I was changing the color scheme in the guest bedroom.”

  “Why can’t you just use this?”

  “Lauren, you wouldn’t want to compromise the integrity of this project. This is so important for Barbie. The flooring contractors are just finishing up the kitchen floor so let’s go see how it looks.”

  As we looked at the floor in the kitchen of Barbie’s house, David gasped. “Oh, this will never work at all. I thought I’d put laminate flooring in the kitchen since it’s such a high-traffic area, but I can tell right now what’s going to happen. When Barbie walks on this floor, her high heels will click too loudly.”

  He told the contractors they’d need to remove the laminate and that he’d come down to the store to pick out something else. They looked at each other and left.

  “Now,” he said briskly. “I think Barbie would want a chair rail in the dining room. We can mix Hepplewhite and Sheridan chairs, but not Chippendale. And we certainly don’t want to do something post-Victorian. No one is doing Edwardian anymore. The primitive thing was over ten years ago.”

  I said, “I’ve heard red accent walls are really in right now.”

  David pretended not t
o hear me. “I had a client meeting with Caroline and Barbie yesterday. Caroline picked out Mission furniture. She must have Michael’s taste for home decorating—everyone knows Mission furniture would never work in a Victorian house.”

  “David, Caroline is four years old.”

  “She already has a very good eye for color, though! I only hope the color swatches of fabric arrive in the next day or two so she can choose the colors for the master bedroom. Otherwise, I won’t have time to order fabric to reupholster the furniture before Christmas.”

  “Order fabric? The color swatches of fabric themselves will be enough to cover all of the furniture.”

  He continued, “I thought we’d do a Biedermeier-styled master bedroom. If it was good enough for Napoleon, it should also work for Barbie.”

  Another week of time-consuming details, and the Barbie house was done and Caroline loved it.

  After the holidays, as David was leaving for the airport, he said to us, “You know, on average, people redecorate their houses every five years, so call me when she’s ready.”

  “Caroline?”

  “No, Barbie. I just couldn’t believe how easy it was to work with her. She was a delight! Maybe I could find some pieces when I go to Italy this spring.”

  Michael nodded. “Barbie would love that.”

  David practically skipped down the front sidewalk.

  Now if we could only convince Barbie to keep her own house clean. But then again, not very many people with Biedermeier bedrooms do their own cleaning.

  34

  The Athletic Mom Who Is Lifting Weights Every Day at Ten a.m. While I Am Gaining Weight Every Day at Ten a.m.

  I’ve never understood the Athletic Mom. Oh, sure, I exercise. I walk to the refrigerator and back many times a day.

  Caroline’s school has a bike rally every year to raise money. You donate forty dollars to bike forty miles and donate fifteen dollars to bike fifteen miles. When I first read this, I was stunned. You donate more money and then have to ride your bike farther. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Wouldn’t you donate more money in order to bike less? Or pay forty dollars and just show up and have a barbecue. Or if physical exertion must take place, have a cakewalk. Get it, a cakewalk? Why not pay forty dollars and walk around a circle and get a cake at the end? Doesn’t this sound better to you? Obviously, my input is desperately needed in the fund-raising committees at school.