We were getting ready to go out on our afternoon dog walk.Â I’m still rather restricted as to what I can do, so I asked OH to help me with my shoes and socks.
I extended a foot towards him and noticed something.
Me: My toenails need cutting.
OH:Â Do they?
Me:Â Yes, look!Â Can’t you see?Â You could do that for me, couldn’t you?
*A moment of silence as a horrified look passes across OH’s face and decides to camp out for a while*
Me (pleadingly): You could do that.Â Couldn’t you?
OH (firmly):Â No.
Me: No?Â But … but … I can’t do it myself!
OH: You know you said you wanted to go into town?
Me: Uh-huh … ?
OH: Book a pedicure.
Now, OH has been absolutely wonderful during my one-armedness.Â He has cooked, cleaned house, showered and washed me, dressed me, blowdried my hair, helped me with 101 little daily tasks that become nigh-on impossible with one arm out of action and the other increasingly painful.Â He’s even learned to put The Pirate’s eye ointment in.
But he just has a little thing about nails.
Oh well.Â I guess I’ll just have to go get that pedicure.Â Oh dear, what a shame.Â I suppose I could have a facial while I’m there, too, and maybe a manicure.Â And the old roots need attention.Â Tee hee.
He’s just lucky I’m not up to a full body massage and the spray tanning booth just yet!