The other day I realized that my eyebrows were taking over my face. I was long overdue for an eyebrow wax. I wish I had the skills to pluck my own eyebrows, but alas I am uncoordinated in this art.
My son and I took a journey to the local nail salon. I figured I would get a quick wax and then go for a stroller walk.
During the eyebrow wax my son was still seated in his stroller, as the wax continued he began to whine a little bit, his whine then turned to crying.
“It’s okay…almost done…” I said through gritted teeth. It was really stressful lying there unable to move because there was hot wax on my face and hearing my kid screaming.
Finally the waxing was over and I got out my debit card to pay.
“Ten dollar minimum.” the lady at the cash register said glancing at my card.
“How much was the eyebrow wax?” I inquired
I racked my brain for a quick solution. I decided to get a 10 minute massage for $10 dollars to fulfill the card minimum. Why not treat myself? But then I remembered that I had my son with me and he was not in the mood to sit still. Before I could concoct a plan, the kind women at the nail salon scooped him up and began to entertain him.
He enjoyed handing the different colored nail polishes to this lovely lady. After she held several shades of varying color, he demanded them all back. The ladies in the nail salon entertained my child willingly, without my asking. And I was truly thankful for it.
When I left the nail salon, I began to wonder if it was a cultural thing. I asked the ladies where they were from, they said “Nepal.” I know nothing about the culture of Nepal. Perhaps Nepalese culture values children more than American culture does? If anyone knows, please fill me in.
All I know is that if I were to go into a posh New York City grooming establishment and my son flipped out I don’t think the employees there would be so forgiving.
Thank you Polish Nail Salon!