Saturday, January 26, 2013

Proof That I Am No Princess

My daughter has been begging....BEGGING to have a pedicure.

Not a cheap, "Let-Momma-Wash-My-Feet-And-Paint-My-Toenails-At-Home" pedi, but a real pedi, in a nail salon.

Yesterday she came to me with a wad of bills out of her piggy bank (how does that kid have more money than I do??) and posed this question to me:

"What if I pay for it with my own money? PLEEEAAASE?"


I know...mother-daughter pedis! Squee! How fun and girly and!

This is where I am weird.

Confession: It kind of makes me feel weird to let someone give me a pedicure.

Don't get me wrong- all that massaging and having feet that look smooth and pretty is wonderful, just feels wrong to me to have someone else 'waiting' on me like that.

So I get tense and twitchy on the inside. I feel guilt.  Horrible guilt. I wonder about those poor girls who have to rub all KINDS of feet, for hours every day, and think to myself...they deserve the pedi, not me.

 I am much more comfortable in the role of 'care-giver' than 'care receiver'.  Which makes me a very bad patient when I am sick.

SO, despite the weirdness it inflicts into my soul...I will suck it up and get a pedi with my girl today.

Wish me luck.

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