Twinkle Toes

Considering I haven't been able to reach my feet in months, I can't exactly give myself a proper (or pretty) pedicure.

Rather than ask Geof to try for me, I rely on the nice folks at a new nail salon that just opened near my house to pamper my peds. Or, at the very least, make sure I haven't sprouted an eleventh toe. Remember, I can't really see my feet, either.

I can't resist describing this place. When you walk in, the first things you see are two massive crystal chandeliers that look like they were stolen from the Las Vegas strip. The wallpaper is gold, and there are all kinds of random decorations hanging above the pedicure chairs. Some look like flowers. Others... more like colorful peas in a pod. None of it quite matches.

Clearly, the owner wants you to feel you're in a five-star salon. I'm pretty sure it's not threatening the client base at, let's say, Canyon Ranch. But, as long as they're not charging me what Canyon Ranch would to get my toes done, I don't really care. At least, they're trying.

My favorite part about going there is sitting in the massive massage chairs. Today, I got a Swedish massage on my shoulders and lower back, while sipping a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup milkshake from Cook Out.

Heaven.

The funny part about today's spur-of-the-moment salon visit was the reaction from the staff to my big belly. The last time I went in was maybe a month ago. My baby bump hadn't yet blossomed into the beautiful egg-shaped cone that it is today. Apparently, cones are the coolest at wannabe ritzy salons.

As soon as I sat down and pushed the massage button, four petite Asian nail techs gathered around me and started asking questions and making comments in rapid-fire succession.

"When you do?"

"You know girl or boy?"

"You big!"

For some, English was obviously not their native language. But, it didn't matter, because their cheerful expressions and smiles easily relayed their interest in my future family.

When I explained that I'm expecting twins, they started shouted in a foreign language I couldn't understand and waved everyone else who worked at the salon over, so they could look at my stomach. Some even wanted to touch my tummy, which is always a little uncomfortable.

I felt a bit like a pudgy celebrity sitting atop my throne (massage chair). My daughters were stars already!

I wanted so badly to take a cell phone picture of them gawking and pointing at me, but I figured that might be a little awkward. It was just so funny to be an object of such interest in a random nail salon that I thought only a picture could adequately express the hilarity of the situation.

Needless to say, if I don't deliver the Wonder Twins before my next appointment, I might need to bring a baby bodyguard along to control my newfound paparazzi. I'll be even bigger then. That should earn the Maternity Queen some extra time in the massage chair, don't you think?