Tonight, I had a fancypants pedicure. Like, with a reflexology massage and everything. The lady was so nice, but at one point she did ask how long it had been since my last pedicure.
“By someone that’s not me?”
“Uh-huh?”
I thought carefully. “About a year?”
Which is a total lie! It’s been at least two years. No wonder I’m single. I’ve been walking around with the podiatrical (is that even a word? it should be) equivalent of a snaggletooth.
The kids? They are not amused. I make them wipe their paws every single time they come in the house. Why am I not held up to the same standards?
It’s not fair.
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