Pedicures

For Mother's Day Jimmy gave me the weekend off and Mom and I went to Albuquerque for some fun. While we were there she treated me to my very first pedicure. I have to admit I was very uptight the whole time. Horror stories of bleeding toes and dirty pedicure tools were swirling in my head as fast as the blue water sloshing around my feet.

Pedicure Lady: "You have good cuticles."

Me: "Really? Huh. Thanks."

PL: "You want French?"

Me: "French? Wha--?"

PL: "French. French! You want French?"

ME: No, I don't want French! I want English, please! Oh... French pedicure? "No. I picked out a color."

PL: "Where is it?"

I look all around. Huh. That's weird. I just had it. We all start looking around for the little bottle of nail polish. And then I look down and realize, to my horror, that it's sitting inside my purse next to my keys. Oh brother. I'm sure this looks bad. Is she going to think I'm a shoplifter?

Me: "Uh," {nervous giggle} "here it is. "

That's what I get for having dead brain cells.

Oh! And apparently I have dead skin as well, according to Pedicure Lady.

After my toesies were all nice and soft and pretty, I was sitting with them under the blacklight when Pedicure Lady approached me again. She cocks her head sideways several time while peering closely at my face.

PL: "You want eyebrows done?"

Me: "No thanks. I'm good."

PL: "Oh, you need eyebrows done. They need shape, honey."

Me: And you need manners! "No, I'm okay. Just my toes today."

PL: "How about facial? You need facial. You have dead skin all over!"

Me: [Irritated.] "Ma'am, I have five kids. I have a lot of dead everything!"

And that was the end of that.