First of all, I really don't like being so up close and personal with my toes like that. (Does anyone?) I know they help out with balance and what not, but I just don't care to spend a lot of time with them. Not to mention, I broke a toe a couple years ago and since then things have never quite been the same. The toe decided to use it as an opportunity to redefine itself, take the road less travelled, if you will. Rather than curving downward in a gentle slope like all the other good little piggies, this one turned east, pushing up against its neighbor toe to the right. Doesn't sound too awful except that it created an unnaturally large gap between itself and neighbor to the left. In short, because of "I've Just Gotta be Me" toe number three, I have a perpetual peace sign staring back at me all day like a third eye. Creepy doesn't even cut it.
But if I were to be totally honest, the real reason I hate painting nails is that I suck at it. No seriously, I'm terrible at it and it baffles me. How is it possible that with years of practice coloring in the lines, perfecting margin doodles, and even getting the attention of a high school art teacher, I can't for the life of me keep the paint off my skin?
Meanwhile, Lil' Miss had finished painting her own hands, I mean nails, in about 2.5 nanoseconds and then began to move in on mine. "No, no," I said. "Back off, sister. Mommy's going to do her own nails this time." I wish I could tell you that today was my day, the day I exceeded even my own expectations of nail polish perfection. But it was not to be. I should've just let Lil' Miss have her way with them. At least I'd have a decent excuse to explain why my toes looked like Freddie Krueger's. The truth is she'd probably do a better job anyways.
1 comment:
hey lee...is that a picture of the end result of an assertive toe?
you got me laughing out loud, my friend.
love,denise
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