So in the past I’ve dyed my hands purple twice and painted my hair bright orange. These pigmented events for whatever reason seem to upset both my parents and grandparents immensely. Personally I feel this is a little unfair considering that Diana once covered my calves in deep blue, latex based primer and no one uttered a peep.
So a month ago I was mauled by a Bear. Not an actual bear, but my parents’ cat Bear. My foot now has a series of perfectly straight, pink scars running across it. Roscoe noticed that it was taking a long time to heal and looked terrible. I told him it was because I had gout and diabetes and possibly a touch of the bird flu. He told me that I was crazy and to stop trying to do his job.
So the other night Roscoe glanced at my scars ostensibly to see how they were healing, and the following conversation occurred.
“What is wrong with your foot?” Roscoe asked, alarmed by the pink, shiny flakes slowly peeling off the top of my left foot.
“Oh. That.” I said much less perturbed than he was. “My tights had a GIANT run in them the other morning and you can use clear nail polish to stop a run but we didn’t have clear nail polish. Since I didn’t have enough time to stop at the store I used reflective pink, but then the run got bigger so it was either I go to work without tights and let everyone know that I haven’t shaved my legs in two months or look like I stepped in paint.”
Roscoe just stared at me.
“I went with the second option.”
Roscoe continued to stare. “I regretted it though, when I went to take my tights off, I swear I have Hobbit feet from the amount of foot hair that got pulled out.”
Roscoe kept on staring. He was probably doing that thing where he thinks that marriage vows don’t cover things like your wife pretending to step in paint, going to work then coming home and discussing her Hobbit feet.
“Also we’re out of nail polish remover and ripping my foot hair out was painful so I decided to just let it flake off.”
Judging by Roscoe’s continued look of shocked disdain I’ve concluded that you’re not supposed to paint your feet. What I want to know is- which body part can you paint?
I paint my face nearly every day and my husband doesn’t complain. In fact I think he might like it!
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