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Smooth as a babies’ bottom…I’m talking about my feet! This past Saturday, Star Wars day (May the 4th be with you), I lost my pedicure virginity! It was so deliciously good!

It was a birthday present from a special friend – a manicure and pedicure for 3 of us…so instead of scrubbing my toilet, I sat in a plush leather “lazy boy” chair soaking my feet and watching soundless Ukrainian television (no subtitles either). The plush leather chair also had a built-in massager and a remote…I did figure out how to turn it on, but it was pummelling me so badly, my life flashed before my eyes. It was short and really boring… Thankfully someone noticed I was being brutally beaten and turned it off for me!

Every wall was lined with shelves and shelves of nail polish – every colour and every shade imaginable. And I had to choose just one…blue, pink, black, yellow, green…My one friend suggested neon orange or yellow, but orange looks too much like Big Guy’s work shirts, and yellow reminds me of toe nail fungus (or rather how I imagine toenail fungus would appear)…so I went with a daring hot pink instead.

I wore heels all week, something I haven’t done since I “retired” when Little Guy came along, so my feet were sore. I could feel it soaking away in that lovely warm (aqua) blue water. I was such a pedicure virgin (and I’m sure everyone in the room noticed), that the poor girl working on my feet had to patiently tell me what to do and when to do it. My feet were creamed, clipped, exfoliated, shaved, scrubbed, and massaged…and all I had to do was sit still and listen to the Big Band music play. I didn’t even have to put my flip-flops on…she did it for me.

I also suffered through a manicure and I now have lovely hot pink fingernails. I don’t think I’ve painted my nails since Little Guy came along. What was the point?

I would have posted pictures but I’m vain…I think my hands are kind of ugly and I have weird toes. My toes and fingers are long and skinny, and my second toe is slightly longer than my big toe. Some people believe that means I’m slated to be the boss of the family, or I’m descended from royalty. Others say that it denotes Celtic origins or is simply related to genetics…that sounds more like it (although there are days when Hubby probably thinks I’m acting like a princess).

Once I got home again, I decided to be a bit of a princess…I didn’t wash any dishes, cook our supper, or scrub the toilet! I couldn’t risk breaking a nail!

Happy Revenge of the Six Day!