Okay-- I typed that in there without the dash and decided it looks like a special bug--like an alternative universe millipede or something: Behold, the manipedis, terrifying arachnid/insect hybrids with a zillion brightly colored enamel toes!
And on that note…
Today was "last gasp of freedom" day. The kids go to school on Thursday, and tonight was their last night to stay up late (although I called time at 11 pm, even though Jaws was not over!) The kids went school shopping and then we got a manipedi.
Big T was (by his own preferences) excluded, but the rest of the kids…
Let's just say I taught them a bad thing the last time we went.
I taught them that it was cool.
And apparently, I tip decently, because the nail salon was not adverse to lining up a full complement of staff to do our feet, and then to do Chicken and Squish's fingers.
And yes-- that is Zoomboy. Last time, he wanted a foot bath--complete with manly red nail polish. The pedicurists thought this was adorable, and ZB plans to keep his toes under wraps to avoid things like teasing--but you know what? I think if someone DOES spot his red nail polish, he'll tell them the truth: he got his feet oiled, sanded, and massaged--and he liked it. Little hedonist!
But all of them were happy and grateful and sweet about it. You know, I was 43 years old before I got my first pedicure--I had no idea it could be a family affair.