Friday, February 4, 2011

Tuesdays and Toe Nails

It was Tuesday. It was cold, snowy, and miserable outside.  The kids had a bad case of cabin fever, and I was facing the seemingly endless list of chores and errands that Tuesdays bring.  The laundry was sorted into piles, the toilets were scrubbed, and I was simultaneously folding socks and quizzing my middle child for her spelling test.

 Then, the phone rang.

 It was my in-laws, and they were coming over to whisk us away from our regularly scheduled programming to spoil us rotten.  They rescued us from our lunch menu of egg salad sandwiches, canned fruit, and potato chips, and took us out for a delightful lunch that included curly fries and Dr. Pepper.   Next, my father-in-law took all three of the children for a few games of bowling, while my mother-in-law and I received side by side spa pedicures at the salon.  It was so dreamy.

I walked into the salon with my Sorrel snow boots, and wool socks.  I peeled them off to reveal my fluorescent white feet that haven't seen the sun in 5 months.  As I dipped my toes into that steaming foot bath, I couldn't help but think of my father-in-law going solo with three kids who had been cooped up for days because of the weather.  It could be dangerous for him.  I envisioned bowling balls flying, children sliding in their socks, and endless trips to the snack bar. 

Then I ripped my thoughts back into the reality as the hot rock massage began on my legs.

I felt so giddy and alive that I decided to really live in the moment and do something least, crazy for me.  I picked out a nearly black nail polish with a silvery shimmer to it.  Then, I had the man paint a pink heart on my big toes for Valentine's Day.

I NEVER get black nail polish.  When I was a teenager, black nail polish was reserved for Gothic satan worshippers who wore trench coats and smoked cigarettes behind the school building.  Nice young girls who got straight A's wore a lovely shade of pink.

That stereotype is totally gone now.  Some Most of my really hip friends have been wearing the black nail polish for years.  When I saw the Pioneer Woman with black nails on her blog, I knew that it was time to venture into the world of sassy nail color.

I'm not one to jump on the latest trends immediately.  I wait a while to let them soak in, and then I proceed with caution.  Besides...I reasoned with myself that if I totally hated having black toes, no-one would see them in the dead of winter anyway!  And my mother-in-law added in the fact that black hides dirt.  So there you have it...two very convincing arguments for black toe nails.

After the pampering was complete, I walked outside into the frigid wind,  and made my way out to my truck with some flimsy little flip flops that did nothing to protect my toes from the snow. 

We mountain women are made from tough stock.

Now, life is back to the regular routine that makes up my week days, but I feel refreshed, renewed, and invigorated.  I'm still anchored down with laundry, but every time I catch a glimpse of my cute toes resting on the laundry basket, I'm taken back to that lovely break from our routine, where I experienced a few hours of unexpected blessings.

My pastor's always talking about showing the love of Christ by performing random acts of kindness for those who aren't expecting it.  Whether it be buying the cashier a candy bar while paying for groceries, or picking up the tab  for the car behind you at the drive-thru of a fast food restaurant.  These types of unexpected blessings can really brighten up someones day.  I know that my afternoon of pampering was a bright spot in my week, and I can't wait to discover an opportunity to bless someone else in some unexpected way, just as I was blessed myself.

P.S.- I'm still enjoying the color! I think I've made friends with black.

P.P.S.- I'm sorry for the ugly toe picture. I have to include it for historical purposes.  I know that no one really wants to see my toes. Thanks for understanding my weirdness. ;)

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