Saturday, April 10, 2010

No….You can’t paint my nails.

Why is it that three year olds want to do everything adults do. And why is it adults encourage this. Let’s look at it from a motor skill perspective. They just aren’t there yet. You can tell by looking at the legs of our lovely princess. It looks like she stuck them in a meat grinder and ripped them out forcefully. I swear, if Jayna didn’t work with a bunch of social workers we would probably be under investigation about ninety percent of the time. The child cannot walk across carpet without falling over. But neither can her mother so I’m not sure why I’m so shocked at this revelation.

Even if we overlook the gracefulness of my offspring, lets face it, the rest of the hand eye coordination just isn’t there yet. If you look at the coloring, or her “art” from school, wow. But I guess we all start somewhere.

In the mean time my daughter is about the girliest girl you will ever meet. She is prissy, sassy, bossy and attempts to be in charge of every situation she finds herself in. The dogs don’t stand a chance. She also loves to have her toe nails and finger nails painted. Thanks to Aunt Betsy, she gets her wish on a regular basis. Every time she shows up at the house, she is sure to not escape performing mani/pedi on the three year old. The Saturday before Easter was no exception.

This is where the story takes a turn. After she was adequately decorated, the three year old (we’re just going to call her Cinderella from now on) decided that Aunt Betsy needed her nails done.

If any of you know me, you are well aware that I am somewhat of a neat freak. I don’t like messes. Watching the spectacle that is my child eating is almost unbearable for me most of the time. I think I have gotten better but I have to admit, I have a long way to go. That being said, you can imagine the horror that welled up in me at the prospect of Cinderella painting anything. But Aunt Betsy wasn’t phased, she propped her feet up on the ottoman and away we went. There was of course a towel down, I can only take so much stress people. Betsy opened the nail polish and handed her the bottle. I had to grab another beer and divert my attention.

The concentration exhibited by Cinderella was nothing short of spectacular. She really takes her jobs quite seriously. From a distance one would think the job she was performing would rival that of any nail salon in the most upscale shopping center in town.

Just look at the concentration:

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With that level of concentration, one would expect to be prepared for a night out on the town. But I say nay nay.

Here are the results of Cinderella’s hard work.

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Half the bottle of nail polish was gone. I believe there was more polish on the skin and surrounding area’s than actually landed on the nails. I am convulsing from un-comfortableness at this point but Betsy wears her new do with pride. Until Cinderella goes to bed.