As I look at my feet, I have two thoughts. One is that I’m really glad my pedicure was free because it’s awful. The other is that I love it. I suppose that doesn’t make much sense unless you’re a mom.
You see there is part of me that looks at my toes and thinks the shade is all wrong and that they need another coat. Also, it sure would be nice if the nail polish was only on the actual nail and not covering the surrounding skin. However, the mom part in me remembers the excited five year old as she finally got to paint her mama’s toe nails. The mom part in me wins out nearly every time.
My refrigerator is covered with art that needs quite a bit of explanation before an onlooker can understand what is going on in the picture. I receive sticky kisses many times a day. My accessories sometimes consist of jewelry made of fruit loops or pasta. Weeds frequently grace the vases in my house because they’ve been picked and lovingly given to me by one of my children. And now, my feet are sporting a horrible paint job. I couldn’t be happier.
I’m wearing my flip flops with pride. It’s what we mom’s do.