I was successful in hopping to the bathroom without getting polish on the floor - only to remember that I was out of nail polish remover. By this time the polish had dried on my toe, and even after much scrubbing, a lot of yellow remained. Apparently in its melted state, this polish bonds to skin in an extreme way - its own personal super power.
I added nail polish remover to the shopping list, forgot about it, and got on with my life.
Today I threw on a pair of flip flops to pick up the mail. Looking down halfway there, I realized that my toe looked like it was covered in dried mustard. I contemplated spilling a bottle of red polish on my other big toe. I could pretend it was ketchup, and avoid a trip to the store. Maybe not.
Katarina looked up at me with her big, brown eyes tonight, and said, "It is my birthday week, and You've Got Mail makes me so very happy. May we please watch it?"
There was no good way to say no to that - even though it is the movie that kills dreams - so I'm sitting next to her watching it. I'm hoping she will fall asleep before the bookstore is destroyed, so I can turn it off in a happy place. I doubt that will happen.
This is my world - the movie that kills dreams and a mustard toe...accompanied by a sudden desire for a corn dog and some chili cheese fries with mustard and ketchup.