One morning last week, Mom and I paused in our tea and coffee drinking: Bea had been AWFULLY quiet. . .TOO quiet. We climbed the stairs but we couldn't find Bea until my mother observed, "Your bedside table seems to be rocking back and forth."
I found Bea wedged in the white legs of my rickety table. She had scaled my bookcase to retrieve my make-up, and with the mediums of mascara and lipstick with possible use of permanent marker, she had created a masterpiece: Bride of Frankenstein meets Geisha Girl. She was in disgrace when I snapped these pictures, so I tried to hide my admiration for her particularly original and precise application.
