Vanity

Pink nail polish.

For months, I have been trying to find time to paint my nails. It just was not happening. Then, finally, last Tuesday after the kids were in bed I threw caution to the wind, let the dirty dishes sit in the sink, and just did it. My toes are now a lovely shade of “Princesses Rule” pink.

It was a Christmas present from my Mom. This is the second time the bottle has been opened. It is now June.

A few days later I looked at my fingernails and decided that they were missing out on the fun and probably wanted to be “Princesses Rule” pink as well.  So, on went the nail polish and I remembered just how hard it is to get ready in the morning with semi-dry nails.  Nevertheless, whenever I looked down at my digits, I felt very fancy and grown up.

And that is the problem. When my nails are painted I just CAN’T STOP LOOKING AT THEM.  It’s like I suddenly turn into a magpie and I am distracted by the shiny things on the end of my fingers.  Then I turn into a teenage boy who just bought his first car and I start worrying about whether I am going to scratch the finish.  Then my nails get so long that I accidentally start scratching the kids.

But the real kicker is that Cate is now old enough to want to have nail polish on like Mom.  I am not a big fan of nail polish on little girls (aside from clear) and I find chipped nails particularly unattractive.  Do I really want to worry about the upkeep of both her nails and mine?  Not so much.  Do I want to have to rationalize denying coloured nail polish to an almost four year old when I am wearing said nail polish on my own fingers and toes? Absolutely not.

So, a few nights ago, my fingernails went back to plain old clear.  They also got a trim.  They are no longer fancy, but they are much more content, and considerably less vain.  I am killing two birds with one stone: preventing Cate from having coloured polish on her fingernails and learning a bit of humility in the process.

However, my toenails remain “Princesses Rule” pink.  I suppose this is where vanity wins out, but having painted toenails really does make me feel like I am doing a better job of taking care of myself.  Sometimes you just need a little extra something.  And I figure that if I am somehow manoeuvred into painting Cate’s toenails anything other than clear, at least they have a good chance of being covered up by socks and shoes.

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