It's starting to feel like flip-flop season - the sun is out, the days are a bit warmer, I'm sick of wearing jeans and socks and shoes... it's time to get some sun on my toes. But before that could really happen, they needed a bit of sprucing up. It's been awhile between the moving and the moving and the moving. It seems like forever since I did something that wasn't moving related. So I pulled out my polish and took it all down stairs where the boys were watching Harry Potter. I was wondering if Luke would notice, and if he did, would he want his done? I had a feeling he wouldn't, since the last time he painted his toes (last summer) one of his little friends was mean enough to tell him if he ever painted his toes again, he wouldn't be friends with him any more. But I was kind of hoping he would still want to - just because of that boy, and also because we've been doing our toes together for the past 3 years or so. And because he loved it so much before. And because I know he's going to be too old for it very soon.
And YES! he got all excited - jubilant excited - when he saw the bag of polish and toe separators and files and creams... SO excited. He said he wanted to paint his fingernails. I asked him if he'd rather paint his toenails and he got this horrified look on his face "Oh, NO!" he said. His hands instead. I guess he remembered what his 'friend' had said. But because he's so literal, he figured doing his fingernails was ok. And so we did them. And he loved it, and was so proud and so funny and cute, sitting there with his little hands spread wide so he wouldn't mess it up, blowing on them to dry them faster, holding them out to admire how the color changed when he moved them in the light...
When we dropped him off at school this morning I knew he was in for a rough day with those copper penny nails, those nails that changed to gold or green depending on the light - I just knew it was not going to be as cool as he thought it was going to be. And I wasn't going to say it, but then it just came out of my mouth, "Don't let anyone give you a hard time about your nails, ok?" and he pranced off, "Ok Mom!".
And of course when I picked him up from school, the first thing he said was "Hey Mom, you know why those boys were chasing me? It's because of my finger nails. They said a lot of things about them." "Oh? Were they nice things or mean things?" "Not so nice things. They tried to stick my hand in the puddle and wash them off. But it's ok, they didn't come off and then they got over it." I asked him if he wanted me to take the color off and he was surprised and said no - he likes them and wants to keep them on for '10 days'. I'm glad. I feel like we've won a small battle somehow - though I'm sure that war of fitting in with the friends is really only begun.