Fingers and Toes and Whether to Expose

 Eve and I went to the spa today for a manicure (her) and a pedicure (me). On the way there, I told her that at the bar on Tuesday we had been talking about how sometimes you think something that you quickly realize is really dumb, or realize when someone else is saying something that you had always been wrong about that thing, and the feeling of massive relief you get that you avoided saying the Wrong Thing out loud and looking like a dumbass. 

(One example of this that I can remember like it was yesterday was being at someone's house with a group of people that included a boy in my grade who was kind of a know-it-all, and we were always competing for the best grades. I can't remember what the game was, but it involved having to take a card and read whatever was on it, and he read the word 'anemones' the way it should be read (a-nem-oh-neez) and I, who had always read it as a-nem-moans, felt hot and cold with the realization that I could have drawn the card and said it wrong in front of him and never recovered from the mortification.)

Most of us at the bar, though, agreed that at a certain age the fear of looking dumb in public has subsided, partly because you have a different perspective, partly (perhaps) because of a desensitizing effect from having it happen so often (maybe that's just me?) For this reason, having the dumb thought, realizing it is dumb, and then cheerfully proclaiming it to the world becomes one of the greatest joys in life.

Eve laughed, and then said "so I assume that was prompted by a thought you had just now?" And indeed it was. I never wear flip flops with toe thongs, I find them horribly uncomfortable. Matt and I went on a super fancy Cabo san Lucas trip before Covid, when the sales guys all voted for him to get an award that usually only sales guys can get, which was very sweet. Every night there was a new gift left in our rooms, and one night it was these really nice flip flops, which I brought home and gave to Eve because, toe thongs. I wore them today because Eve was getting a manicure, and my Croc flip flops overlap my baby toe so I can't wear them right after a pedicure.

What I was about to say to Eve before I caught myself was "I know I'll have to put these on before she puts the polish on, but I hope I don't have to wear them the whole time, because they're really uncomfortable". Then I thought that through and realized that that would not be possible, because the first part of the pedicure involves your feet being repeatedly submerged in a sink full of water.

I've always been kind of surprised and grateful that Eve and her friend group never seemed to go through a Sullen Adolescent phase. I certainly did, and Angus, while he was never surly towards me, definitely had a period where he was sort of grumpy and hard to get talking (which I totally get! It's a tough time!) In grade six she came home with her friends and they were talking about how the other grade six class had 'cooler' kids who never wore their snowpants at recess, so today Eve had tried not wearing hers. She said "I just felt cold, and weird about how skinny the bottom of my body was compared to the top". The consensus was that being 'cool' wasn't worth the discomfort.

They just seemed to continue feeling very comfortable discussing everything with us (the moms), up to and including drug and sex stuff. There were still trying times, of course, but without the added stress of feeling like they wouldn't talk to us. I can't stress enough that I don't think this was because of anything we did or did not do, it was purest dumb luck.

The other fun thing was that they never became jaded and unwilling to express excitement and wonder about things and experiences (like the Experimental Farm twenty years later). Eve shops sparingly for clothes and treasures each item. When she crafts something she likes she is so happy and proud. When she sets up her desk nicely to study or work she sends me a picture of the scene. So I loved taking her to get her nails done, because after agonizing over what colour to get, she ran around the house all afternoon saying she felt like a mermaid, and kept sticking her nails in my face, and this morning she got up and said "It's awesome going to bed the day after getting your nails done, because then you wake up and you haven't seen them for eight hours and it's exciting all over again." When I was her age, I would have felt like it was somehow unsafe to be that outwardly delighted by anything - and not without reason, because I remember times when people made it clear I was being extremely un-cool. One of my friend's friends said "why do I get the feeling Allison is just excited by life?" and I don't think it was meant to be a compliment. Oops, I've dipped my toes back into traumatic waters, back away!

Anyway, I am both glad to be past the point where I care what people think about my enthusiasm for whatever, and happy that my daughter doesn't seem to be restrained in hers.

Now back to anxiously over-packing. 

A little Lucy content for Engie, and Eve's shoes for Anne.

We went in to buy her boots, but there were two pairs of Doc Mary Janes. We picked these because of the flower buckle. I saved them for Christmas.