nail polish remover
I never, ever paint my nails, but when Brian was home last time we went to Niagara for the weekend and I had my very first pedicure (not overly fantastic, but fun enough). The best part was after the girl painted my nails she told me it would take an hour to dry and that I’d have to wear the paper flip flops for that long so I couldn’t put on my shoes.
Did I mention that this was in the winter and it was freaking cold outside? Well, I padded along up to the main lobby of the very nice Marriot of which the spa was a part and then Brian proceeded to give me a piggy back next door to our hotel, creating quite the scene as you could imagine. But it was dead fun.
I now have to take the remaining bits of nail polish off of my toes in preparation for open-toed sandals at a wedding this weekend and, as I rarely (never) wear this product, I also rarely never remove it…
Today, as I reached for the nail polish remover, I had an instant, intense flash back:
The last time I removed nail polish was when the nursing home attendants where my grandmother lived had a “makeover” day and painted her fingernails.
And she hated it.
So I promised that I would come back the next day and get it off for her, which I did, taking each finger delicately and rubbing off the mess with care — with the same bottle that I still have in my cupboard.
It was a nice memory to fall upon.