This past weekend, I decided to treat myself to a mani/pedi at the salon for my birthday. Erin and I have been talking about doing that for ages, so Sunday after church we went to a nearby nail salon. The difference in personalities between Emily (14) and Erin (12) is amazing. When I invited Emily to join us, she wrinkled her nose like I’d just suggested we go have our tonsils removed together. Not surprisingly, she opted out on our mini Girls’ Day. (You can read about how to reach Emily’s heart in https://thelighthearteddragonfly.com/2014/05/09/bonding-and-doctor-who/ ). Erin’s only qualm was some minor apprehension about a stranger touching her feet.
I’ve gotten quite a few manicures over the years, but I have never had a real pedicure. Before you think I’m some kind of Neanderthal, you have to know that I am pretty self-conscious about my feet. But I figured that the people who do pedicures have probably seen worse feet than mine. At least I hoped so. I did not want to be the customer whose feet were so unsightly the salon worker went home and told her family she needed to find a different job. It’s not that my feet are smelly or anything like that—they are clean and free of any toe jam—they are just rough, tired, old…well, you know—feet. They have calluses and funny-shaped toes with weird cracks in the nails. They’re not my best feature.
Erin and I ended up having a magnificent afternoon. We sat next to each other in the massage chairs with the foot baths in them and tried to hold in giggles when the women would work on our feet and it tickled. The people watching in a nail salon is a lot of fun. We enjoyed listening to the employees as they bickered amongst themselves in a language we couldn’t understand. Erin’s face was priceless; I really wish I’d gotten to take a picture of her skinny body in that great big chair.
After our nails were done, we wanted to use the Starbucks gift card we had been meaning to spend. While we discovered she’s decidedly NOT a coffee drinker (yet)—the baked brownie was definitely more her speed—I was lucky enough to have that special one on one time with my third child. Time when we talk, just the two of us, about whatever comes up. It is in moments like these, unplanned and done on a whim, that I glimpse the woman she will one day become and know that I am truly blessed.
And that is the best birthday gift of all.