If you didn’t know, I am a licensed cosmetologist. That’s not what I do, but I do have the license. So in other words, I went to “beauty school”. No, I won’t give you a free haircut.
In order to graduate, students have to meet certain requirements. You have to be at school a certain amount of hours and perform a certain amount of services. I am extremely blessed to have a supportive family that came in even when they didn’t have to just to help me finish on time, which I did, thanks to them.
My brother was one of the ones who would come in ever so often. He loved getting back rubs, and pedicures for the foot massage. He never let me paint his toenails, though the school did have some lovely pinks… Ha!
I enjoy getting pedicures on occassion. Don’t enjoy giving one, though. I mean, it’s feet. And family feet is one thing. Stranger feet is another. Nope, don’t ask me for a pedicure. Or a free haircut.
I was giving my brother a pedicure. Really, it was just a foot massage with warm water and a comfortable chair that he threatened on more than one occassion to take home. And then sometimes he would turn the vibrate setting up so high that he sounded like a robot when he spoke. This is the same long-armed brother who, when I was giving him a back rub, would reach down and play with the foot pedal that raised and lowered the bed. So sometimes I’d have to bend over and rub his back. Other times, he would be up to my stomach.
Yeah, he gets into things. And he’s just two years younger than me.
I brought out the nail clippers because, for some reason, men have an insane aversion to clipping their toenails and will almost let them claw through the ends of their socks. I was clipping away, minding my own business, when a rogue toenail clipping leapt into the air, aimed at my face, and landed squarely in my eye. Yes. In. My. Eye. No, not on my eyelid. Not in the corner. Directly on my eyeball.
Somehow, I managed to hang onto the clippers and not drop them in soapy water as I struggled to remove said toenail from my eye. And it wasn’t a small one, either. Of course, my brother was laughing. I would have too, if I was in his position. But I wasn’t. Thankfully, I got it out right there and it didn’t scratch my eye.
It was gross, yes. But at least it was family feet. Not stranger feet. So now I don’t clip anyone’s toenails but my own. Even the woman who came in a few weeks later needing it. I had the handy-dandy nail file and was perfectly satisfied not having another toenail attack my eye.