I decided to clip their fingernails, a task that needs to be done more than I ever imagine possible, and I decided to offer a bribe to make it more palatable: Teyla, do you want me to paint your toenails?
She squealed and lit up like she keeps a shaft of sunlight hidden in her soul.
I took that as a yes.
So I washed faces and conditioned hair and rinsed bubbles off limbs that are bigger than I think they should be, and I wrapped them in towels and started the mani-pedi.
There are worse things in life than having a freshly washed three-year-old and five-year-old on your lap, wet hair in my face and giggles in my ears. I clipped and counted and even Kieran is old enough now to not freak out when the clippers touched his skin, and it all went very smoothly.
Then Teyla and I, we started to ponder my fingernail polish collection, because the first toenail painting of sandal season is the time to make a statement.
She chose a hot pink.
I chose a pinkish lavender.
Kieran chose an icy blue.
He was not to be denied, my little boy with the grin and sparkle, the man-child who fights bad guys all day and then races to "nuggle" me at night.
"I want blue toes, Mama," he said looking up at me with the biggest brown eyes I've ever seen.
Children have pure hearts.
And some have sky blue toenails.
This morning, Kieran climbed into bed with me before I was fully awake, and he sucked his finger and pushed right up under my heart. "My toes are blue, Mama," he said with delight. "They are so boo-tiful."
