Have you heard the one about the high maintenance pedicure customer? That’s me. I confess. Hey, my feet are sensitive, OK! Today, because I didn’t want to have gnarly old lady toes at my niece’s wedding Saturday, I went for the full treatment.
As I walked into the salon all of the ladies raised their heads to see who was walking in. “Can I help you?” was the question. “Spa pedi and gels”, I responded. Panic rose across their faces as they started speaking to each other in rapid fire dialog in a language I could not understand. I am pretty sure they were saying “you take her. No, you take her. I will give you $20 if you take her.” Oh gosh. Finally, sweet Holly escorted me to the chair. She seemed resigned to the fact that she drew the short straw.When I go anywhere that I think I may have to wait I take a book. As I got into the chair I tried to make eye contact with her but she was busy shooting her next chair shop mate a side eye. Again, speaking in their native tongue I was trying to discern, by facial expressions, what was happening here. My mind got the best of me. It seemed like they were saying “Sister, I am here for you, just hang in there it will be over soon.” My book remained on my lap never opened. I was too busy psyching myself up for this.
I apologized many times over that my feet were (and still are) extra sensitive. The bottoms of my feet are the only part of me that’s ticklish. When I was younger my dad & brothers would hold me down and tickle my feet! As I told her that tidbit of information she did not look amused. As this darling lady started with me, I tried not to flinch. Finally, she looked at me and said, “I know how to do this mam.” Then she glanced at the lady next to her and slipped a tiny smile. I minded my own business and used mind over matter for the next 20 minutes. That “mind over matter” thing is one tough cookie. Every time I flinched she made a funny displeased curve with her lips.
That evening my family came for dinner. My grandson Braxton is a determined little guy. Getting up in my lap, he started tickling my ribs. I told him I wasn’t ticklish. He said he was so I proceeded to tickle him. I then told him to stare straight ahead and concentrate and not let the tickling bother him. So he stood straight, focused his big blue eyes toward the window and tightened his lips. As my fingers got close to his ribs he flinched. I told him to concentrate. As I started tickling him he laughed then said, “again, again”. We went through the same list of straighten, focus and concentrate. “Again, again”, he said. We did this for several minutes until I could tickle him pretty heartily without him making so much as a smirk. Mind over matter. Well, it escaped me in the nail salon. If a 3 year old can master the talent why couldn’t I?
The torture was over! Bless her heart my dear little pedicurist took a sigh of relief. She patted my foot sympathetically and moved me to another seat to dry. Next time I walk through the door I expect all of the ladies will make themselves scarce and give me to the “new kid”! Perhaps I should change salons but word gets around quick in a small town.
#InGodwetrust #mindovermatter #blesstheirheartsinagoodway