Isn't she lovely

In a spasm of femininity, I went with Eva to get a pedicure today.

My feet had reached the point where I was embarrassed to show them in public. My old polish job looked like it had been done at the CNIB and then run through a cheese grater. And I had about three inches of callous on the back of my heels. So I kind of felt badly for the pedicurist, who managed to mask her disgust behind a beautiful facade of politeness.

I took Eva with me, thinking it'd be fun for her to get her toenails done, too (not the full treatment, just the polish job). Be ye not so stupid in future - her threshold for quiet, well-behaved waiting is about 40 minutes. By the time we left after an hour and a quarter, she was practically gnawing on her own leg to escape. But I digress.

We both chose our colours and had at it. She - surprisingly - went subtle...some sort of cotton candy-esque pink polish which was remarkably appropriate for a five-year-old. I was rather shocked...apparently being at school has had some impact on her taste in polish colour, which up until now has pretty much been limited to I'm a Slut Red and Screw me Crimson.

They propped Eva up on a bed with pillows behind her head, telling her all the while that she was a beautiful princess. She was SO EXCITED and reacted the way she always does - by talking non-stop. The poor pedicurist could barely keep up. I sat back and laughed and took pictures.



The best part was coming home...Etienne oohed and aahed when we came in with our perfect, lovely clean toes with their spotlessly shiny polish.

Little Addie came over to meet me...I was talking with Etienne.
SO I didn't even notice as she - intrigued by the purple polish on her mama's feet - TOOK HER FINGERNAIL AND SCRATCHED A THICK WHITE LINE IN THE DRY BUT STILL-SOFT POLISH ON MY BIG TOE.

AAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's ALWAYS that way. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, there's always something not quite right about my appearance. You know? I'm the one who unwittingly goes out with toothpaste dribbles down the front of my black top. Or baby snot on my left shoulder. Or a fossilized Cheerio stuck to my ass.

I've come to accept and even embrace it.
I was just not meant to be a sweet, delicate model of perfect femininity, no matter how hard I try.

But I'm dealing with it. At least the nails on my left foot are beautiful.

Anyway, off to scrape my legs.
Might go swimming tomorrow.

Must look nice.