Your husband wil paint your toenails for you…and you’re not pregnant.

I got my nails done at lunch Friday.  Since I’m in between new sets (meaning:  to make them last I’m opting for color insead of the highly fashionable white tips that are most popular) I chose a red polish.  I got a pedicure a two weeks ago, for the girls pool birthday party, but now my toe paint is chipping and since we were heading to Palm Springs my toenails needed tending to.  Without additional cost, and tip, to the Vietnamese man who does a spectacular job bi-weekly, I chose to do them at home.

Thursday night while Mister and I sat down to watch Miami Ink, one of his favorite shows, I asked him to please paint my toe nails.  The bit of the typical Mister protest  he put forth was not only required but expected (he’s a man for gawds sake and can’t give in THAT easily).  No sexual favors were promised in exchange.  All I said was Please, Honey, you know I suck with red polish and we’re going to be at the pool all weekend.  *batting my beautiful eyelashes*  Then with the sigh he replied Get my glasses.  (Yay!)   He slapped on his glasses, brightened the living room light, pulled my legs across his belly and began painting them the perfect red that’ll match my freshly painted nails, Garnet Red.

Have I told you lately that I love him?