Lipstick speaks LOUDER than words

Just remembered this story from the past. I’m getting back to writing after a very long time and what better way to resume writing, than with another retarded story from my dad’s life.
This must be around the time when I was a kid, and quite an ugly one. Which means teens? Nah, this means pretty much 80% of my life. Anywho, getting back to the story… It was a regular Sunday morning…mum was preparing breakfast in the kitchen, dad was up to a million things – mostly futile, my sister and I getting bored. Suddenly my dad got this crazy idea to entertain us by WEARING MUM’S MAKE-UP! He plucked a bindi (red sticker Indian women put on their forehead) from the side of the mirror and daintily placed on his forehead. Picked a red lipstick and smeared it on his lips. Made a ponytail – yes, he had horrendous looking mid length hair because that’s the look he thought enhanced his personality best. Never mind.
With all that stuff on his face, he came walking to us pretending that absolutely nothing was unusual. We saw his face and burst out laughing. He looked crazy. Next he went to mum in the kitchen. She jumped for scaring the living daylights out of her. Not too pleased by that look, mum started screaming at dad, we split our sides, dad danced around irritating mum to another level and the drama continued.
Soon the breakfast was ready and we all sat at the table. As we were in the middle of our meal, the door bell rang. Dad got up to answer the door and it was our neighbour. Dad smiled and went about chatting with him… When uncle left, Dad came back to the table and casually mentioned how this particular neighbour is quite weird – he wasn’t sure why he came to our house, he looked distracted, didn’t know what he was talking about, kept staring… Kept staring?!!!And that’s when the penny dropped.
Dad darted to see his face in the mirror. His face flushed, not with the red of the lipstick but utter embarrassment while ours did out of laughing hard and falling off our chair.
And that’s how my dad unknowingly managed to scare our neighbour away. It surely was an entertaining Sunday. I don’t call ours a madhouse for no reason.
Poor Dad or poor neighbour?

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