Even though I swear like a sailor, I am girl who likes girly things. I love makeup, perfume, purses (oh how I love purses), clothes, and drugs that help PMS symptoms. I also really like nail polish, manicures and pedicures. I am sure my husband loves my sharp wit and brilliance,but I am certain that it is the femine aspects of me that primarily attracted him to me. This is an important part of the story I am about to tell. I do not have the kind of husband who is knowledgeable about nail polish, eye shadow, or the right color of foundation. He just knows those things magically appear on me. My husband knows about sports, cars, and killing things in Call of Duty. He's usually not with me when I am enjoying Sephora, the hair salon, purse shopping, or just sitting around polishing my nails. And by usually, I mean the months when he is at work in the day.
I've been polishing my nails for 30 years. In those 30 years, I have had the joy of learning how to get nail polish out of carpet, clothing, and towels. It's part of becoming a woman. We must learn how to get nail polish and hair dye off everything before we graduate. For the last 13 years, I have sat on the top step of our stair case and polished my nails. It's the best lighting in our house and the only place where there is carpeting. I have never spilled the polish here. My husband does not know I sit there for manicures and pedicures because he's at work, the gym, looking at varieties of oil for the car, or whatever men do (I watch Dateline and 20/20, I know what they do). So last night while my husband was playing COD, I figured I'd just partake in my beauty ritual and try out some new pink nail polish. Somehow, the force of Mercury going into retrograde early knocked the bottle of polish down the stairs, splattering Kiss On The Chic pink on each step as it made its way to the bottom. I could not believe my eyes! It was a brand new full bottle and now it was all over the carpeted stairs and wall. Normally, I'd grab my camera and take a picture of this spectacular mess and text it to my sister immediately so we could laugh about the before and after, but my gasp of horror alerted my husband to our new pink carpet. Since he doesn't know about my secret powers of polish removal, he was not too happy. He was wondering angrily how I could have an open bottle of nail polish near the carpet. Men. Um, the same way I live and breathe. I could barely contain my laughter. As if this was the first time I had to get nail polish out of anything. I'm still laughing to myself. It's funny how your secret skills come out when you least remember you have them. I haven't had to clean a nail polish catastrophe this bad since college. If this ever happens to you, remember, always blot with the polish remover, don't rub!
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