Yesterday on the way home from work, the wife asked if I could swing by the Krogers and pick up a couple of prescriptions for her. I remembered one of my own at home, and she said "well why don't you come home, get that, take 1.0 with you, get them filled and maybe pickup some dinner on the way home?"

"Great idea!" I said.

And then I had a great idea.

1.0 and I dropped the prescriptions off and then turned around and headed into the (GASP!!!) Nail Salon at the Krogers. It's called "NAILS" in case you were wondering.

See, I bit my nails my entire life, and shortly after I quit smoking over four years ago, I also quit biting my nails. Since then, once in a blue moon when they all need a tidying up and it coincides with a special event or something, I'll head somewhere with the other girls from work to get a manicure. So I figured why not take 1.0 and while I was soaking my hands in the electric blanket mitt thingies, she could get her fingernails and toenails done.

I'll pause here for a moment to let homophobes like JBud and footbath to kill fungus guys like TL to laugh and chortle and outright guffaw...

So whilst I was in the mitts, 1.0 got her nails done in a light bubblegum pink (I think the color was actually cotton candy). Once the painting was done (and during the foot painting she giggled and outright laughed her ass off which amused me greatly) she was placed in the drying seat with fans on her hands and feet, which also made her laugh.

I was then taken out of the hot mitts and just then, my phone rang. It was my brother in law. I had two options:

1) Answer the phone and say "I'll have to call you back thweetie. I'm getting a mani and I won't be done for thum time. Cheerth!!"

b) Not answer the phone and hope to come up with an alternate story of why I couldn't answer the phone since I never don't answer the phone.

I chose option B.

Seconds later, my favorite little co-pilot utters my least favorite grocery store sentence:

"I think I gotta go peepee."

Shit.

I've got that lotion stuff all melted in and from my wrists to my fingertips. and I've got to scrub out to take gerbil bladder to the men's room for a pee.

We get that done, which includes the terribly slow flip flop walk by her so as not to damage her toe paint, and all the while my cuticles are drying. (GASP again!!)

We get back and I go back into the electric blanket bags for a few minutes, but the damage was done. Dry cuticles getting a manicure = blood and some discomfort. It just does. Plus, now the urchin is bored and VERY tired from her roller skating outing earlier in the day and chooses to lay down across three lobby chairs to "rest her eyes," only she's not resting her mouth and she's just blab blab blabbering away and I think it's even tiring for the "fye darra me ruv you rong time" lady doing my nails.

But in the end, it was totally worth it. It was six bucks to get 1.0's done and ten for mine, and with the four dollar tip, the total was an even twenty dollars. Really not bad if you ask me.

Oh, and when I got home, I told the UnkTodd where I'd been and at the same time he was staring blankly at me saying "....really? A manicure?", my elder nephew was muttering "fag" and "homo" under his breath, which I totally understand. Oh, and the nephew also asked what color polish I got. As if I'd suddenly joined the cross-dressing cabaret at Club Anytime downtown. "No color," I replied. "Just a nice buff and polish."

I reminded them that if they stopped biting their nails down to the bloody stumps of their elbows, they too could have nice looking hands once in a while.

And that was how I spent my Tuesday afternoon instead of mowing the lawn, which I will have to do today. Of course, I'll be wearing gloves so as not to meth up my nailth.

And in case you were wondering, yes, the gloves are yellow with little green flowerth on them.

TTFN everybody!!