You Take Care Now

I had my first manicure last week.

Actually, it wasn’t a real manicure. It was a fake one, lasting only about ten minutes. And it was free. And I was in an airport lounge where the “manicurist” might also have been the “janitor.” I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Because it was FANTASTIC.

My nails looked really lovely and girly for about three days. Now they look like this.

But for a moment, they were not chipped. They were all grown-up and pretty, which was a great distraction from my wrinkly, dry mom hands. (**WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?? WHEN DID MY HANDS BECOME MOM HANDS?? EXPLAIN THIS TO ME!!)

I’m not great about doing girly things, like keeping up on hair and make-up trends or getting my nails done. I’m the kind of girl who tends to find an eyeliner in, say, 1999, and then stick with it. Same with eye shadow. I might have gotten a wee bit hysterical one time with the Estée Lauder woman when she said my sparkly, neutral eye shadow creme base had been discontinued. I remember her telling me that the pitch and intensity of my voice was inappropriate for a department store. WhatEVER. Stop discontinuing my make-up and I’ll give you appropriate!

So last week, when the manicurist/janitor stopped clucking about how unmoisturized and generally disgusting my mom hands were and started massaging them, I think I purred. (Did you know they do that?! They massage your hands!) I started to slump in my chair, eyes closed, and a little puddle of drool accumulated at the corner of my mouth.

The whole, glorious experience reminded me of a day in 2001 when I got my one and only facial. A faint memory of total bliss peeked through and I’m sitting here now, wondering why I don’t do these kinds of self-care things more often. Because here is my most urgent of questions: Is my face going the way of my mom hands?! Are my cheeks and forehead dry and hang-nailed and generally neglected? Especially since some heartless make-up executive (we’ll call him The Man) discontinued my eye sparkle?!

I’m inching toward an inappropriate volume and pitch. I’m off to wring my hands… but only after applying a healthy amount of moisturizer.

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