As I got older, I discovered what nail polish is. Not quite sure if that's a good thing or not. I asked anyone who would listen to paint my nails, usually Mama or Granny. I wanted pink or, sometimes even with glitter. When they were dry, I would hold my hand out to admire my pretty nails.
I got brave one day and went to Granny asking, "Can I paint your nails?"
She replied with a hesitant,"Yes."
A girl has to have a good workspace, so we headed out to the porch. I dipped my brush in the red paint and went to town painting her nails. Granny was enjoying the breeze, oblivious to what was going on. I painted the nails, but not knowing it should get on the skin.
"Give me your other hand, Granny." Soon, I was finished. "Okay, look at your nails!" I said with excitement. Granny looked down, unsure of whether she should laugh or cry. The polish covered half of each finger. What can I say? I'm a full service salon! I don't do anything half way. In this case, I went a little overboard. I just wanted to make her look pretty.
Let's just say she never asked me to paint her nails again.
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The Longest Goodbye
This is what I said it felt like when describing what we have gone through with my grandmother. For four years, we've watched her slip a...
3 comments:
What a cute story! A fun memory I'm sure you'll never forget. :)
Such a fun story and I'm sure your Granny loves that memory as well!!! XOXO
Best laid plans, right?...
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