It was a quiet Sunday afternoon at home. The sunlight poured softly through the windows, casting golden patterns on the floor. Birds chirped outside, and everything seemed peaceful. Thuy was in the kitchen preparing snacks for the afternoon while humming a cheerful tune. Meanwhile, Lala, the little bundle of energy with sparkling eyes and a vivid imagination, had wandered off to explore her newest idea of fun.
Thuy had recently bought a beautiful set of lipsticks—rosy pinks, coral oranges, deep reds, and glossy nudes—each neatly arranged in a shiny silver box that she kept in her bedroom vanity drawer. She loved makeup and considered her lipsticks her tiny treasures. But she had forgotten one important thing: nothing shiny and colorful was safe around Lala!
While Thuy was still occupied in the kitchen, Lala tiptoed into the bedroom. She had seen Thuy use the lipsticks before—dabbing the color on her lips, smiling into the mirror, and looking so pretty afterward. Lala, curious as ever, wanted to try it for herself. She climbed up on a small stool, pulled open the drawer, and her eyes lit up like stars when she saw the row of lipsticks.
“Ooooh!” Lala whispered, grinning mischievously.
Without hesitation, she picked up a bright red one, twisted it open, and gasped. It looked just like a red crayon! She immediately smeared it across her lips… and cheeks… and forehead. Then she picked up the pink one and added stripes across her arms. She giggled at her reflection in the mirror, clearly pleased with her ‘makeover.’
But Lala didn’t stop there.
She decided the walls looked too plain. With innocent determination, she drew curly loops, hearts, and zigzag lines all over the cream-colored wallpaper. Then she turned to the closet door and began her next masterpiece—a big drawing of what looked like a cat… or maybe a dog. She wasn’t sure, but it was colorful!
By the time Thuy returned to check on Lala, the bedroom had been transformed into what looked like a lipstick crime scene. Lipstick caps were scattered everywhere, drawers were wide open, and Lala was standing in the middle of the room, proudly showing off her art-covered face and arms.
Thuy gasped.
“Lala!!!”
Lala spun around and grinned. “Look, Thuy! I make art!”
Thuy’s mouth opened in shock. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “My lipstick! My walls! Your face!”
She rushed over to Lala and gently grabbed her hands, careful not to spread more lipstick. “Oh, sweetheart. What have you done?”
“I’m beautiful now, just like you!” Lala beamed, showing her lipstick-smeared teeth.
Thuy’s heart melted a little despite the disaster. It was hard to stay mad at Lala when she was so adorably proud of herself. But still, the mess was overwhelming.
“Lala, lipstick is not for drawing. It’s for lips only. And even then, only a little!” she explained while trying to wipe off the lipstick from Lala’s cheeks.
“But I wanted to look fancy,” Lala pouted. “And the wall looked boring…”
Thuy let out a long sigh and tried not to laugh. “Well, you definitely made it more colorful. But now we have to clean everything up.”
That was easier said than done. Thuy spent the next hour scrubbing the walls with a damp cloth, trying to remove the bright stains. Lala, feeling slightly guilty, helped in her own little way—wiping things (and sometimes making them worse) with a towel and occasionally saying, “Sorry, Thuy.”
After the major cleanup, Thuy gave Lala a bath to remove the remaining lipstick on her arms and hair. The water turned slightly pink, and Lala giggled the whole time, splashing and making bubble beards.
“Next time,” Thuy said, “we play with crayons or markers—not makeup.”
“Okay,” Lala nodded with a cheeky smile. “But can I wear just a little lipstick when I grow up?”
Thuy laughed. “Yes. But only when I teach you how.”
Later that evening, after Lala had calmed down and curled up in a blanket, she whispered, “Thuy, you’re not dizzy anymore?”
Thuy smiled, brushing Lala’s hair from her eyes. “I was dizzy, but now I’m just tired… and very lucky to have such a funny little girl.”
Lala hugged her tightly and whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you too, my lipstick artist,” Thuy whispered back.
From that day on, Thuy made sure to keep her lipstick box high up on a shelf—way out of Lala’s reach. And Lala? She started drawing her lipstick dreams with crayons and paper instead, proudly showing Thuy her creations every day.
But sometimes, just sometimes, she’d glance at the vanity and smile like she had a secret. Because in her heart, Lala knew that the day she painted the house with lipstick had been one of the most fun adventures ever—even if it did make Thuy dizzy!
The End.
