Perhaps if I'd read the books and not relied on the Who Weekly condensed version gleaned in the hairdressers or doctors surgery I might be a bit better at remembering to attend to all the bits and pieces we females are meant to attend to.
Anyway, from time to time I do indulge in a pedicure. I find the whole thing quite surreal. It is really a very intimate procedure to have someone fiddle with your feet, scrubbing, massaging and taking what appears to be a cheese grater to your heels.
It tickles and I giggle. Conversation with the technician/beautician/therapist (take your choice, I have no idea) is almost always out of the question as very few speak English. We all get by with a series of smiles and hand gestures. This works just fine.
I love the feeling of having my feet massaged. I love coming out with brightly coloured toes. I promise myself I will do it more often and then I don't. There's probably a book written about why women like myself deny ourselves this little luxury. I will probably never read it.
