Last night I got a pedicure, and I realized a few things.
1. I am not mature enough to pretend like my feet aren’t ticklish.
2. I will never figure out how to make that massage chair do what I want.
3. I am a boring fuddy duddy.
On Monday, Annalyn and I met my cousin and her daughter for lunch and then did a little shopping. I let Annalyn pick out a new bottle of nail polish at the girly-girl store. After overruling every sparkly, glittery, feathery pink thing she picked up, I decided a two-dollar bottle of paint couldn’t hurt anything.
Of course she picked up a bottle of hideous silver sparkly polish. And would not be dissuaded, no matter how appealing I made the [normal] pink sound.
“Are you sure? This pink is awfully pretty! Or what about the [non-glittery] purple? It’s nice, isn’t it?”
It didn’t make one bit of difference, so I gave her two bucks and let her buy her stupid sparkly silver paint.
Last night at the salon, I had to laugh when the nail technician kept questioning my own nail polish decision.
“You pick color? Hot pink? Like this? Fun! Summer! No? Oh. You want red? You sure? It’s summer! Fun!”
As I watched her paint my nails with the [lovely] dark pink that I finally decided on, I had to laugh at myself. I love the bright colors I see on my friends’ toes, but I know how rarely I get pedicures. So I pick a color I know I can live with for a few months. (Yes. Months.)
It’s the same way I shop for shoes – practical, maybe to a fault. Like my polish, my shoes match everything and can be worn anywhere. But they’re not exactly fun. And they don’t make me smile.
I’m not sure how to balance fiscal responsibility and practicality with my buried deep desire for whimsy. I’m not saying I want to pick the sparkly silver polish or the pointy pink pumps every time. But every once in a while? Yeah, that would be nice. Fun, even.
How do you balance fun and practicality? What color are your toes painted?