Guilty Pleasures

Before Melinda left town, I scouted out a few places where we could go for one last pedicure. Problem was, we both ran out of time to do it together. So, for her, I went anyway. And since I felt bad that the establishment wasn't getting the double sale, I felt the need to get a little extra done to make up for the missing person. So, I got my nails done, too.
I grew up with my mother's fingernails. If they grow, they grow really pretty, and then all of a sudden, somehow each and every one of the nails that took a good couple of weeks to grow one or two at a time breaks off, usually below the nail line, and deep into the meat of my finger. I also have nails that are layered, and the top layer lifts off all the time. My husband says I need to drink more milk, but I know that I drink plenty of that(no matter what AS says about dairy), so I don't have that excuse. So, in order to combat that problem, I used to get my nails done all the time to keep them strong. That was before Micheal came along. Once he came along, there was no more time for such luxuries, and my nails got pushed to the back burner, just to get them growing, and then bend one and break it again.
My husband has his "habits" that cost a little bit of pocket change every month, and I didn't think it was fair that I had to quit mine. So, I asked, and he agreed.
My nails look good, and my feet feel good, and I have no guilt about dropping my child off at his babysitter's to play with other little boys while Mommy worked out and had a little "play" time.
Now I'll have to think of something to do tomorrow so he can go play with the boys again!
Or maybe we'll just stay home and play together again! :)