Lip Balm

When I was in elementary school, there was something I wanted more than anything.
Lip balm.

Thinking back on it now, it wasn't actually forbidden.
But the me back then thought:
Lip balm equals adult woman equals precocious.

If I told my mother honestly,
"My child is suddenly acting so grown up,"
that one comment might spread throughout the whole neighborhood.

If it reached the lady at the barbershop, who was known as the town loudspeaker, that would be the end.
That was the one thing I absolutely wanted to avoid.

Since I didn't get an allowance yet,
I came up with a plan to sneak it into the cart
while shopping with my mother.

We arrived at the drugstore.
The chance had arrived.

"Mom, can you buy this for me?"

I said it as emotionlessly as possible,
trying not to make eye contact.
In case she asked, "What's this?"
I had prepared a comeback: "This is for moisturizing. It's not for beauty. It's more medical."

Then my mother, surprisingly easily,
said, "Sure."

While I felt a bit let down, I was pumping my fist in my heart.
Finally, the lip balm I had longed for.

When I got home, I couldn't wait and opened it immediately.
My heart was pounding, and my hands were excited.

And then, I tried applying it.

……It's sticky.

It wasn't the "moist" feeling I had imagined.
If anything, it felt like glue.
Feeling uneasy, I looked at the package again carefully.

It wasn't lip balm,
it said "Sock Touch" on it.
In other words, it was sock glue.

My lips, that day,
had absolutely no plans to be smooth.

Even now, when I buy lip balm,
for some reason, just once,
I confirm in my heart, "This is for lips,"
before heading to the register.