Don’t Touch my Feet!

Am I the only woman in the world who doesn’t do mani-pedis??

My sister and my niece actually look forward to the pampering; so do my girlfriends.

But not me.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve cut, filed, and polished my own nails — all 20 of them! — and I can’t see that changing any time soon.

When I was a little girl, one of my grandmothers chided me for having such short fingernails (hers were long and pointy).

‘But Grandmother,’ I protested, ‘I play piano. I’m active in tennis and other sports. I can’t worry about breaking a nail.’

She wasn’t swayed. In fact, I’m pretty sure she thought I hadn’t been raised right.

That, or I was an incorrigible rebel.

Back in the ’80s, a girlfriend convinced me to try fake fingernails, the kind that are already polished and easily glue on to your nails.

Eeeew, what a mess! Yes, they were lovely to look at, but try doing the simplest of tasks with them — things like picking up a coin or dialing a phone or even going to the bathroom!

The most trouble I had doing my own nails came when I was pregnant with my son. Bending over toes proved a challenge indeed with a full baby-on-board, but somehow I managed.

And I continue to manage, despite my crowded schedule, despite reading glasses slipping off my nose, despite my legs having grown even farther from reach.

While I occasionally go without polish on my fingernails, I rarely ever leave my toenails bare, especially in the summer.

Feet in sandals just scream to be pretty, don’t you think?

Yet despite nail salons sprouting on every street corner and in every mall, I’m still holding out. Call me weird, but nobody touches my feet!