My Sunday routine for years now, since Brent and I got married, has been as follows: take a bubble bath, deep condition my hair, slather on a good facial mask, file my callus feet, and paint my toenails. Brent has commented that he has never seen my toes with out polish. You see, I hate feet. I think they, in all forms, are ugly. (I also feel this way about knees, but that's for a different day) I make sure I always have toe nail polish as a way to disguise their ugliness. I have worn polish faithfully since I was 12. I also find chipped, unattended-to polish offensive!!!
Well, today, Brent got home form work early. It was especially hectic. Scarlet was screaming for no known reason, Ella was demanding something and Molly was begging for food. I may or may not have forgot to feed her last night. When the chaos finally subsided, Brent sat by me in the recliner. I notice he was observing my feet with a perplexed look on his face. I looked at them and their sorry state. The silver polish was missing from several toes, and chipped on the others. Chunks were missing from random places, giving them a lovely swiss cheese effect. I looked at him, "What? Why are you looking at my feet?"
Brent stroked my hair, tipped his head to the side and asked, "Are you doing ok? Are the kids being crazy? Has it been a long day?"
After round about questioning, he admitted that he had never seen my toenails in such a state of neglect. He was worried about me. Because my toenails were so bad!!
1 comment:
oh hell you should see mine. and that cat could stand to miss a meal. i am happy that brent realized it was bad enough to warrant ashley toe painting time. the drastic things that have to happen to get them to realize. sigh. i'd probably have to drive my car through the dining room
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