Mental Health in a Vibrating Chair

Today my Heather came over for a visit.  It had been a ridiculously long time since I had seen her, but no worry, my 2 year old immediately recalled that she's the number one person willing to play hide-and-hide with him (no editing mistake--he only wants to hide and be chased).  Eventually poor Heather got to sit and even got to take off her impervious-to-cold soccer shoes.  That's when Ell busted out with this, upon seeing her feet and pointing,

My Mommy don't have those anymore.  

 Yep.  I still have feet.  Toes even.  What did I not have any longer?  Painted toenails.  This wasn't because I took the polish off--oh no.  This was because it had been so long since my piggies were painted that it had all grown off.  Even off the big toe. Sad.  That's what happens when you have two kids and a full-time job during a recession.

That moment is when Heather and I looked at each other and we knew. . . we KNEW our destiny.  Pedicures.  Sometimes that vibrating, massaging chair and some girlfriend-time is all you need to make you forget about re-arranging the garage.  Trust me.  Totally rationalized worth it.