The Mystery of the Polka Dots

Did you ever have one of those days when something weird happens and you can't figure out what's going on?  Well, that happened to me a couple nights ago.  I spent the day doing some chores and stuff, then took a shower and started to get ready for choir rehearsal.  I got dressed, did my makeup, then grabbed a bite to eat.

A little while later, my friend came over to catch a ride to practice.  I headed to my bathroom to make a pit stop before we left.  On the way I noticed something orangey on the dining room floor, but just figured my nail polish had flaked off and figured I get it later.

As I walked into my bedroom, I saw a trail of nickel-sized pink dots on my carpet going from the door to where the dog sleeps by the side of the bed.  I had no idea where they came from, and they hadn't been there earlier when I was showering and such.  The ground outside is red clay, so the color wasn't right for the dog to have tracked in mud, much less in near-perfect circles.  And unless she's suddenly developed the ability to work a juice bottle, I couldn't find any explanation for the dots.

My friend heard me muttering in the bedroom and came in to see what was going on.  She, too, was flummoxed.  Then she wandered off to make a pit stop of her own while I grabbed a rag and attempted to clean on of the spots off the carpet.  Unfortunately, I only succeeded in smearing it more.  Oh, well--I needed to get the carpets cleaned this month anyway.

I put the rag away and got ready to leave with my friend when it finally occurred to me what had caused the spots.  Earlier, when I was putting on my makeup, I dropped my blush on the floor.  You know how when your makeup gets worn down in the middle until there's nothing left but in the corners?  Well, at the time I could have sworn one of those corners popped out of the blush, but I never could find it on the floor so I decided I'd just imagined it.  Apparently I couldn't find it because I'd stepped on it and promptly stamped it all over my bedroom carpet and into the dining room.  Go figure.

So now I have my own mini-Twister game on the floor.   Because I'm just special like that.  ::headdesk::

It wasn't me, Mom...I swear.