Nope sorry Kath I'm not dingy enough to break out the hot wax but having been talked into shoes like a real girl. I agreed to live dangerously and go for them. Assuming I wouldn't be sporting them for a bit I thought I had time to primp my toes to be exposed.
Well low and behold on the calendar there marked was my son's sports banquet tonight for which they would now need be worn. Something needed to be done and quick. A mere coat of polish just would never do. The hands and the feet always must match without exception so with a French manicure freshly done on the hands, there was nothing to do but match the feet. With my words to dear Kathy haunting me "don't do these things yourself " I began to paint little lines with a hand that never mattered. Your haircut or missing eyebrow has nothing on these feet babe, but at least they match, what...I don't really know. Part of the mess came from laughing as I was thinking about you Kath and how this was payback for my saying the I told ya not to it yourself comment. So Miss Kathy when we're bunking together as little old ladies, we may have found our calling and means of supporting ourselves by providing one handed salon service disasters.
I think this is called cosmetic justice Kathy or cosmetic karma.