Crybaby

\\ mrs. potato head \\

oh mrs potato head tell me
is it true that pain is beauty?

\\ mrs. potato head \\

Crybaby stared at herself in the mirror.

Imperfect, she thought. Not even close to being pretty.

She grabbed her mother's makeup, and ran to her room. To be honest she had no idea how to use makeup, but she did know it would make her bearable.

She was not born with it. She didn't have beauty running through her blood.

She placed some of the pink thing on her lips. Also some on her cheeks. She tried to follow her mother, just caking her whole face.

Confidently, she put on her frilly pink dress and headed out. She was hoping for someone to notice.

"What's on your face, Crybaby? Did you touch my makeup kit? Who told you that you could touch it?!" Her mother angrily asked.

Crybaby didn't answer. She felt frustrated again. She was supposed to be complimented, not shouted at.

"I'll give it back." Crybaby felt uninspired. She ran back into the house and put the kit back in its place. Turning the TV on, she started to watch.

"Kim, you look stunning! Who are you wearing?!" A reporter said, taking pictures of the famous girl.

Kim mumbled an answer Crybaby didn't understand. She didn't know any famous designers. Maybe that's why no one compliments her.

"Kim! How is Kanye? How much does he usually pay for your surgery?"

"You are so rude. Get out of my face." She said, giving a mean glare.

Surgery? Crybaby thought. You mean the one where they add plastic inside your face? Or something like that.

Oh. So that's what it takes to be noticed.

Just like Barbie, you need a little plastic.