14/08/2014 12:51 BST | Updated 22/05/2015 06:12 BST

Creaming My Brows Not Waxing My Tash

Creaming my brows not waxing my tash

It's not like I am not used to being embarrassed. But being used to something is not quite the same as liking it.

I really don't like feeling ground swallowingly mortified.

Today was hectic, I was working into the wee hours last night. My eyelids felt weighted down when I eventually stumbled into the day to be met with the chaos of children needing lunches, injections and gym bags preparing. I left the house in state fit for a bin man as we hurtled down the road trying to get to school on time.

We made it, and five minutes later I was down to a more manageable one child. My youngest and I speedily hurtled towards her swimming class and within seconds we were stripped, changed, toileted and kicking away merrily in the pool. Half an hour flew by and before long all us mothers were mumbling the goodbye song whilst trying to avoid being drenched by our babies.

No time to waste, myself and BB were out of the pool, showered, dried, dressed and hot stepping to the car to get BB to gymnastics.

It really was non stop.

I strapped BB in the seat and jumped in the driver's seat quickly catching sight of my flushed rushed face.

It was then that I saw them.

Two ugly furry caterpillars that were sitting above my eyes, they were wild, untamed and in desperate need of a tweeze. I felt shamed I had faced the school run with two brows that were desperately trying to become one.

It was too late to resolve before gymnastics, I just had to keep my head down and my eyes low and pray that one of my beasts didn't leap off my face and savage someone.

Straight after BB bounced, ran, bounced and played for 45 minutes we headed to the chemists and picked up a tube of Immac (I know it is called Veet now but I like the old name better, I do the same with Opal Fruits.).

I find plucking too time consuming, threading, too arse clinching painful, and waxing too risky, so for years now I am been creaming my brows in an effort to tame them.

Once home I switched on the TV and left BB immersed in the world of Aurora and I headed to the bathroom. Carefully I smeared cream under my eyebrows, removed excess strands and obliterated the mono brow. I noticed a few darkening whispers above my lips so I dabbed some hair blaster on them whilst I was at it.

I left it for 10 minutes to do its job.

Ten minutes is a decent period of time to 'get stuff done'. I emptied the dishwasher and picked up the waste bin to take outside to the black bin.

It was then that it happened.

I headed out with arms full of rubbish and walked straight into my lovely postie.

We had a fabulous catch up, I told him all about Portugal, we joked about the bills and finally we parted ways and he headed off to the couple next door.

I walked back into the house with a smile on my lips thinking what a nice chap he was and I carried on straightening up the house. A few moments later I felt a curious tingle above my mouth and around my eyes. I lifted my fingers to touch the sensation and they came back wet and white.

Horror consumed me. I had just spent five minutes chatting with the postman with bright white hair removal cream on my face. A day glo T shirt saying I wax my tash would have been less embarrassing.

I can never sign for a parcel again.

Jane is a working mum of three and has great hair. One of these things may not be true.

Blogs at: Northern Mum
Twitter: @JaneBlackmore