I stopped wearing lipstick several years ago. It just isn’t necessary with jeans and t-shirts and I chew it off my lips anyway. On the rare occasions that I put on grownup clothes, I usually slather on a coat of chapstick to pretend that my lips aren’t blending in with my face. This morning I ran around the house looking for something with color to make me feel less like a mom and more like an adult. In desperation, I ended up raiding the “I’m almost 15” year-old’s bathroom drawer. No, I didn’t feel guilty. She thinks everything that is mine is hers, so I think I can sift through her beauty products. Unfortunately, there is a theme to her hair and face products. They all sparkle. I applied a thin layer of lip gloss with a sponge applicator and it did not make me feel like I was fifteen again. It made me feel silly. I hurried to tell Doug goodbye and rush out the door. “Is that . . . glitter . . . on your lips?” “Yes. Want to kiss me?” “Umm, no, I’ll wait until after you eat the glitter.”