"What doing, Mama?" She, in the midst of dinner in a high-chair.
I, in the midst of a manicure on the couch.
She climbed out of her high-chair and came to me.
As if she knew instinctively what a manicure was, she spread her rosy little starfish hands out in front of me.
I painted her nails.
She admired them, as girls do.
Digit by digit, "And this one, and this one...."
She showed me her ring finger, her pinkie, her thumb.
I gave her another coat of pearly pink.
I don't know how she knew,
how she knew to just stand there and wait for it to dry,
to inspect and admire them.
It's like she came with a Toolkit of Girly and was just now getting to use some of the finer implements.
I don't know how a beautician feels,
giving girls their first manicures.
I only know how I felt tonight,
like all of my most fantastic dreams had come true
in the form of 10 little pearly pink fingernails.