Women's Nails Be Growing

Recently to reward her for her grades, I took my daughter for a manicure and pedicure. She loved it.

It was my first time in a nail salon. They asked if I was also getting treatment, and I said no. The last time I remember hearing about the topic of men getting pedicures was years ago in church. I used to go to a progressive megachurch in Brooklyn, and the minister had opened a barbershop that would also provide manicures for men, he announced one service. I don't recall if the place was a success or folded, but I never went. I get massages but no manicures yet. (Big shout to Lia at Philly's Massage Spa on 4th and South Street!)

So we're in the nail salon and since she's getting her feet washed while sitting in one of the big massage chairs, the guy in the shop turns on the vibration mechanism for the chair next to her that I'm sitting in. Felt good.

Then they clipped and ... is there a more technical or PC term for when they're digging the dirt out your toes? They were doing that, then rubbing her feet, and I'm shaking in the chair, looking outside at the passers-by, trying not to think "which salon employee is the cutest" or other such things guys think about when they're at salons, because my daughter's sitting there and it's just uncomfortable. For me. For some other of my guy friends, it's no issue. Maybe their menner than me.

For years I'd take her to the same hair place in Brooklyn - took before-and-after pictures almost everytime, adorable. That hair salon. Those times were grist for stories and an education and a blessing, too. Being there for those hours (and hours and hours) because those memories are unusual for dads and daughters (and I like being unusual) but also because it's awesome to watch your kid be pampered and go from feeling just OK to bee-yuu-tee-full! Makes you smile. Talk about feeling menner than other men: treat your daughter to what causes her to glow. Addictive.

Hair's one thing, and digging out the toe dirt was different but still fun to watch. I'm a boy. So anyway, they did her toes and got to her fingernails. Same deal: rub the hands, clip the nails, dig the dirt out. (Sound like Leave It to Beaver, don't I? "Mom, a nail salon's where they dig out the dirt from your fingernails and stuff?" "Shut, up, Beave! What a stupid question. They dig it out your toes, right Ma?" "Wally!") After they polished her nails, they put this white line across all the tips. I really liked that. Sure, I'd seen it before on women and I'd seen good and bad polishes, well-done and not well-done, I'm trying to say. Hers were well-done. Then they put her under heat fans to dry it all.

So now it's weeks later, right, and I was sitting on the floor, and she was sitting on the couch with her feet dangling down. I looked over and noticed space between the polishy part of her big toenail and its cuticle. Like there's a dull space. I think the polish is disintegrating. And I go, "What's wrong with your nails, that space there between the shiny part and the cuticle?"

And she goes, "Yeah, it's time to take the polish off."

And I go, "Hunh?" Because I was thinking something was wrong with her feet or the polish was bad or like I said, disintegrating.

"My nails grew."

"Hunh?" I said.

"My nails grew."

And I never had thought about that before. I swear, till then, I had thought women with that - women at that stage between last manicure and next one, or paint removal - were just women with wack pedicures or wack manicures. Like their treatments had been wack from jump, not that their nails had grown.

Nails grow. Of course!

That's it. That's what I learned about what I see when I'm seeing women's nails with that space.