Today is Father’s Day and to be truthful I have been trying to write this particular blog for a while about my father.
When I was a little girl my father would often polish my nails, I wonder if he remembers that. We would sit in the living room on the top floor of our first home and he would sit with me, probably with music playing or the television on and apply coats of nail polish to my little bitty hands. I know I had to be very young because we didn’t move from that home until I was about 10. (I think)
In reflection those moments were probably our bonding moments, our sit down time together and you know what? It wasn’t until I was older that I even realized that nail polish could spill out of the bottle. Not one time when my father would use nail polish did I see it anywhere but on the brush and on my nails. So I’m thinking, “this must be magic”. I guess in a sense it was for a little girl to have this big person sit and tend to her and make her hands pretty.
I can’t remember the first time I spilled nail polish but I do know it’s hard to clean up, causes discoloration on surfaces and leaves a crazy smell for a long time. So now I am extra careful when I polish my nails. Each time I do I think about my father and those early memories. How he protected me from a potential mess that could stain me, leave me messy and smelling horrible.
Hmmmmm!!! All of that from a bottle of nail polish.
Happy Father’s Day Sonny!!!!!!