June 26, 2008

The Fancy Nail Salon

I didn't have a real manicure or pedicure until I was 23. That's not to say I didn't like painted nails. I did, and still do, but there weren't nail salons on every corner "back then" and having painted nails usually required actually buying a bottle of nail polish instead of heading off to a salon.

I vividly remember when I was seven or eight and my mom let me buy a bottle of cotton candy pink nail polish at the drug store. The bottle of nail polish came with a very stern warning that I was not to ever use it without appropriate supervision. I heard the warning but still promptly locked myself in the bathroom, unscrewed the bottle and tried my darnedest to paint my nails without the required parental assistance. I remember thinking that getting polish just on your nails was a lot harder than it looked. My mom was not amused.

Michal and Kenna both love to have their nails painted and are the first to notice if I've gotten a pedicure. After much pleading and begging to "go to the fancy nail salon" like Mommy does, I gave in and took them to get a real pedicure. It was so cute. They each sat perfectly still on the chair while asking non-stop questions of me and the person painting their nails.

"Why does that lady have bubbles?" "Only adults get bubbles?" "What is that?" "Oh, it's nail polish remover?" "What does it do?" "Does this make the chair go back and forth?" "Only people who work here can touch this button?" "Can I move my toes now?" "OK, but I can move my head, right?" "Can I drink this water if I don't move my toes?" "What is that nail polish?" "What is basecoat for?" "Can I have a flower on my toe please?" "Can I have a flower on my other toe too?" "Can I give the lady the money?" "Am I done now?" "Can I move my toes?"

The lady painting Kenna's toes kept laughing and then finally looked at me and said, "Do they ever stop asking questions?"


And I wouldn't have it any other way.

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