I Mace Yo’ Face

My mom used to have a can of mace.  If you don’t know what that is, it’s a portable chemical spray, like tear gas or pepper spray, that you can squirt into an attacker’s eyes to give yourself time to get away. Needless to say, it’s potent stuff.

The unattainable is always the most desirable – especially to children who have been repeatedly told “no” or “touch that and I’ll beat you into next Tuesday”.  OK! Gosh! I never get to have any fun!

But you can’t keep a good kid down. I was something of a Nosey Nelly.  My parents had zero privacy. No matter how hard my mom tried to hide things, I found them.

So when mom put the can of mace inside of an unmarked box, behind a stack of old magazines and on the highest shelf of the laundry room closet – it was only too easy to find.  {Like I said: I am was a bit of a snoop}

There I was.

10 years old.

Alone.

Waiting for my neighbor to pick me up to take me to school.

Holding a can of mace.

I knew it was dangerous or bad or whatever my mom had said.  But I needed to spray it. I needed to.

I decided to spray it (away from my face! Obviously! I’m not stupid {snort, chuckle}).

The plan was, I’d spray it in the laundry room and then quickly scurry back up the shelves and deposit it in its hiding place – no one ever needs to know.

Except that when you point a can of mace toward the air vent and spray the air pushes it directly back in your face.

{Cough}

Oh no! Oh.  This isn’t so bad.

It’s….it’s…BURNING MY FACE OFF!!!!!!!

I ran to the bathroom with tears and snot dripping down my face. I splashed water repeatedly into my eyes and up my nose, but nothing could stop the burning. It seemed to intensify.

{Honk, honk}

I blindly looked in the direction of the sound of my neighbor honking the horn to let me know she’s here and it’s time to go to school. {Continue splashing face with water}

{Hoooooooooooonk, hooooooooooooooonk}

{Continue splashing face with water}

{Knock, knock, knock}

{Continue splashing face with water}

{Pound, pound, pound}

{Open door, standing there red-eyed and blotchy faced, coughing, with my little green backpack in one hand and my lunch bag in the other}

Neighbor: “Are you alright, dear? Did something happen?”

Me: “No. Why?” {cough, blows nose, winces} 

Tags: Awkward Charm, mace