The Manicure

I had a friend while we lived in Gilbert who only had sons. She was a beautiful woman, but missed having daughters to dress up.

My friend's husband owned a construction company. He went to work very early in the morning, and often fell asleep on the couch at night long before she was ready to go to bed.

One evening, while her husband snored on the couch, my friend sat up watching TV, painting her fingernails.

“Nothing woke him up when he was sleeping,” she explained when she told me the story a few days later.

“I guess I was feeling kind of sorry for myself, not having any little girls to paint nails with, so I got this bright idea to practice on my husband.”

Very carefully, my friend painted each of her husbands nails a bright red. He never stirred.

The next morning, long before she woke up, her husband quietly got dressed in the semi-darkness and slipped out the door so as not to wake his wife. It wasn't until he pulled out his wallet to pay for a Big Gulp at Circle K that he saw the bright red paint on his fingernails. It was hard to tell who was more astonished, him, or the cute little girl behind the counter. She certainly never expected to see a big, hulk of a man like that wearing nail polish.

My friend's husband sure was cross when he got home that afternoon. Wearing gloves all day in 105 degree weather wasn't fun, but it was the only way to keep his employees from seeing his manicure.

“How do you get this stuff off?” he grumbled, after he'd used a whole bottle of rubbing alcohol to no avail.

“Oh, it usually just wear off my fingers in about a week,” my friend assured him with a twinkle in her eye. It did, too, and she never told him about the bottle of polish remover sitting in her medicine cabinet, next to the nail polish. “After all, it kept him from drinking soda pop for a whole week.,” she told me.

The Story of How Gale Got Lost

I was born and raised in Mesa, Arizona, a small town and a long time ago.  Things were different back then.  People didn't lock their doors, neighbors trusted each other, and everyone took care of everyone.  It was a good place to live.

I guess when I was little I was pretty fearless, but by the time I reached elementary school I had some deep seated paranoia, especially about getting lost.  I remember one afternoon when mom was a few minutes late to pick us up.  My older brother, Keith, was in second grade and I was in first.  Every afternoon our teacher would walk us from our room out to meet our parents.  Mom was always there, waiting to take us home.  On this particularly day, though, she wasn't there.  I stood on the corner, looking and looking for her.  Keith was off on the playground, happy to have a few more minutes to play, but I sat down on the curb and burst into tears.  I was so scared!  What if mom never came?  What would I do?  My teacher came and comforted me, eventually taking me back into the classroom to keep her company until mom came, which was right away.  Someone had called on the phone just as she was leaving, so she was 15 minutes late.  Not a big deal, except to a scared little girl like me.

Getting lost frightened me more than anything else, and as I grew up I wondered why.  Then one day mom told me about what happened when I was two and I figured it out.  So, here is story of how Gale got lost.

Once upon a time, in a little town called Mesa, there was a nice family.  There was a mama and a daddy and a little boy who was three and a half, and a little girl who was two.  They lived in a house on a quaint old-fashioned street, just two blocks north of Main Street. 

One day mama needed to go pick up a few groceries.  She put Keith in the back seat of the car with his little sister, Gale.  It was a hot summer day and Gale was just a toddler, so she was only wearing a diaper.  but mama didn't take time to put her into a dress, they were only going to be gone a minute. 

When they got downtown, mama parked the car in front of the store.  She leaned over the back seat and said,  "Keith, I'm only going to be a second.  Will you stay in the car with Gale and keep an eye on her?"

"Sure," Keith said.  Fe was a good big brother, and he didn't mind watching out for his little sister.  What's more, he was having fun playing with his cars in the back seat, and he didn't really want to go into the store with mama.

Mama picked up her purse, got out of the car, then leaned in the window one more time.  "Stay in the car," she admonished Keith, and he nodded absently as he zoomed his toy cars over the upholstery.

Keith played happily with his cars, but Gale couldn't find anything to keep her attention, so she pushed down the door handle and crawled out of the car. 

"Stay here," Keith shouted when he saw Gale toddling away from the car.  "Mama said to stay here!"  But Gale didn't pay any attention.  There were many more exciting things to do out on the sidewalk in front of the store than in the stuffy, hot old car. 

Poor Keith was in a quandary.  Mama told him to stay in the car, so he couldn't get out, but his little sister was wandering away.

Just then Mama came back.  She really had only been a few minutes, just like she said.  But there was Keith, sitting in the car crying, the door open, and Gale no where in sight. 

"Where's Gale?"  mama asked in horror. 

"She wouldn't stay in the car,"  Keith sobbed. 

Quickly mama scooped Keith up in one arm and took off down the street, looking for little Gale.  Soon she saw her, standing on the corner next to a nice man, sucking on a big lollipop.  Mama ran up to her, grabbed her with her other arm, and started to cry.  The man patted mom on the shoulder and said,  "So, this is your little girl. I thought someone would come looking for her pretty soon."

"Thank you, thank you,"  mama cried as she held Gale close.  "I was so scared!"

"You didn't need to worry," the man said, smiling.  "She's a good little girl, but I thought it would be a good idea to keep her here on the corner instead of letting her walk across the street, so I gave her a lollipop.  Here's one for you, too," he said as he handed a second sucker to Keith.

"Thank you, again" said mama as Keith grabbed the candy.  Mama carried both of her children back to the car.  She carefully put them in the back seat, aware that people were watching her and smiling.  Mama waved to them as she got in behind the wheel and carefully backed the car out onto the street, then slowly drove home.  As she drove mama took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.  She pulled into the driveway, parked the car,  then sat  for a few more minutes.  In the back seat Keith was playing again with his cars, while Gale watched.  Finally mama turned around and asked,  "Gale, why did you get out of the car, honey?"

"Get lollipop," Gale answered, happily sucking on her sweet treat.  "But you must never get out of the car by yourself," mama tried again.  Gale smiled and sucked louder.  "Get lollipop," she agreed.

It was then that mama realized little Gale didn't understand a thing about safety.  Over the next few days and weeks she talked and talked to the little girl, trying to make her understand the dangers of getting lost.  It worked, too.  I still get a queezy feeling when I get seperated from the people I love.