Little Sis and I soaked our feet in the warm water and sighed with pleasure. Then, when Sister's pedicurist brought her feet out of the water, I pointed and laughed like a nice older sister. She looked like she was wearing bright pink socks that ended right where the water line had been. It's no secret that we Johnson girls have very pale skin. (Have I mentioned that my foundation is called Pale Ivory? It's true. It's the lightest shade available at the Estee Lauder counter. Seriously.) But perhaps Sister's water was a bit too warm. I laughed even more when the girl on the other side of Little Sis pointed out her pink socks. She could hide her freaky pastiness from no one.
Now finished with our pedicures, we moved over to the manicure stations for our short-lasting-and-indulgent French tips. While my lady was working on my cuticles, she mentioned that she could do my eyebrows for $7. While I appreciated the information, I didn't feel like getting my eyebrows waxed that day; besides, I usually just tweeze the strays. When I declined, she persisted, "But you need [it]!"
Little Sis seemed to be having a grand time with her manicurist. When we walked out together with our purple toes and French fingernails, she told me that her lady had asked her all about us: how far apart we are (12 years), and how old I am. When Rachel answered "28," her lady corrected her. "No! Twenty-two, twenty-three!" I guess if I am paying complete strangers to judge my color choice and eyebrows, they can make it up to me by giving back 6 years of my twenties.