On the other hand

My daughter has beautiful nails. I noticed them the minute she was born. It was one of the first things I said to her. She has always been a nail polish wearer.

I on the other hand (hee hee. get it. other “hand.”). Anyway, I on the other hand do not have beautiful nails and didn’t wear nail polish until I was nearly 50 years old. I dug in the dirt too much. Cleaned sticky things with my nails. Had four busy kids to take care of, so who had the time? And while the kids were being raised, it felt too selfish of me to spend our money on polish or manicures.

As the years went along, my story to myself was, “it wasn’t me.”

Until there was an occurrence that jolted me out of this story. My only daughter was getting married and the entire female wedding party, mom of the groom, and step-mom went out for special wedding manicures and I wasn’t invited. I didn’t hear about it until everyone showed up to the wedding with the same manicure and talking about how fun it was.

It hurt. It still hurts.

The reason I was given is, “you don’t wear polish.”

So I asked myself why? I decided to change my story. I didn’t have four little stair-step kids anymore. I had the cash to spend on myself.

So now I have fun with nail polish. When I dig in the dirt and ruin my nails, it just means I get to switch out the color.

It’s been years since my daughter was married and while it still hurts, I’ve accepted that to have kids, is to get hurt by them. This same daughter turned me on to a nail polish that changes color in different temperatures. It is immensely cool.