Today, the girls had a playdate with one their little friends. The friend is Morgan’s age and she, too, has a little sister, who is a year younger than Coever. Coever wants no parts of the little sister and is more than happy to insert herself in the mix with Morgan and the Big Sister friend.

For a while, Host Mom and I sat in her living room talking about this, that and other thing. Somehow, we got on the topic of playdates gone awry, always an exercise in who can pull out the most embarrassing/horrendous/outlandish/otherwise humiliating experience. I feel like “Top That” should be playing in the background.

She told me about a friend of hers whose daughter cut the hair of another child during a playdate. We laughed, trying to think of ways to explain ourselves to the other parent in a situation like that. Host Mom went on to say that one time, her own mother had hosted some children, and sent the children home completely unawares that the children had gone into her jewelry box and be-dazzled themselves with her best stuff. Thankfully, the visiting mother realized she had jewel thieves in her midst and returned it all post-haste.

The playdate went on and the girls were all playing nicely upstairs. Host Mom and I went to the kitchen, getting snacks and feeding Little Sister in the high chair. I guess we’ve learned to only prick up our ears if we hear crying, screaming, or assorted thumping and bumping noises, because Host Mom commented how we hadn’t heard from the girls in a while. That’s always a sign that something is amiss. Just as we rose to check it out, Morgan comes tromping down the stairs, Big Sister and Coever in tow.

At least, I think it was Coever.

I thought it was Cesar Romero at first.

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In any event, all Host Mom and I could do was laugh. I mean, really, should we even be surprised that this is what went down when we all but guaranteed something was bound to happen just by sheer revelry in the previous conversation?

Miraculously, the bathroom, where they had pilfered the make-up from, was clean as was the room in which they applied it. Morgan and Big Sister had a much light hand when it came to application, contenting themselves with several layers of lipstick and limiting the blush to only one side of their faces from brow bone to jawline. Nice.

But here’s the weird thing — about a year ago, Morgan did this photo shoot where she was given carte blanche to have at it with some make-up. Neither one of them has seen the photo, I don’t think, but their make-up application is strangely similar. Check it out here.

Cesar Romero, right?