As we sat around the lunch table, the conversation turned to toenails.
I don't tend to worry much about the future, but lately I have one nagging concern that eats at me in the wee hours of the morning when my body refuses to submit to the solace of sleep: When I am old, senile, and decrepit, who will clip my toenails?
I know my adoring husband would do it, but chances are he'll be dead by then!
Since the dilemma weighs heavily on my mind, I broach the subject with my children. We are having a nice lunch when I ever so subtly bring up the topic of toenails.
My older son, completely disgusted, shakes his head in disbelief. Knowing he really is not suited for care-taking, I suggest he look for a wife who might be up to the task. I imagine a courtship questionnaire that we could use for screening purposes: "Question 6: How do you feel about foot care?"
Before I can compose follow-up questions, he says in no uncertain terms, "I am NOT going to ask my wife to clip your toenails." Emotions mingle as I reply, "You're right, that might be asking too much." I feel sort of proud that he is already protective of this girl, though he knows not who she is.
Older son offers a different solution: he nominates younger son for the job.
"You don't actually have to do it yourself, just hire someone to give her a pedicure."
Younger son assents. He's used to being exploited. Older son promises to oversee younger son in this endeavor. Big brothers are good at oversight.
I just might sleep better tonight.
While I feel grateful to know that the future of my feet is in very capable hands, I wonder if I need to get their assurances in writing. It's easy to forget your mother's feet.
I don't tend to worry much about the future, but lately I have one nagging concern that eats at me in the wee hours of the morning when my body refuses to submit to the solace of sleep: When I am old, senile, and decrepit, who will clip my toenails?
I know my adoring husband would do it, but chances are he'll be dead by then!
Since the dilemma weighs heavily on my mind, I broach the subject with my children. We are having a nice lunch when I ever so subtly bring up the topic of toenails.
My older son, completely disgusted, shakes his head in disbelief. Knowing he really is not suited for care-taking, I suggest he look for a wife who might be up to the task. I imagine a courtship questionnaire that we could use for screening purposes: "Question 6: How do you feel about foot care?"
Before I can compose follow-up questions, he says in no uncertain terms, "I am NOT going to ask my wife to clip your toenails." Emotions mingle as I reply, "You're right, that might be asking too much." I feel sort of proud that he is already protective of this girl, though he knows not who she is.
Older son offers a different solution: he nominates younger son for the job.
"You don't actually have to do it yourself, just hire someone to give her a pedicure."
Younger son assents. He's used to being exploited. Older son promises to oversee younger son in this endeavor. Big brothers are good at oversight.
I just might sleep better tonight.
While I feel grateful to know that the future of my feet is in very capable hands, I wonder if I need to get their assurances in writing. It's easy to forget your mother's feet.
:) Madeline has volunteered for the job...so if they need any help!
ReplyDeleteHOORAY for loving nieces! Thanks, Maddie!
ReplyDelete