Trying new things can expand old bonds

As I sat in my living room, relaxing, thinking about what the next morning would bring, my beautiful wife described that the girls decided tomorrow we would go as a family and get pedicures. This adventure was not uncommon for the girls. They routinely make plans for the heavenly procedure once every couple months. My part in the adventure routinely consisted of sitting from afar, watching and reading or simply vegging out. Understanding this fact, I didn’t really give the process much thought. At least until the girls elaborated more fully on exactly what would be expected of me this time.

As the girls overheard their mother describing the plans to me the girls rushed to our sides. Without hesitation, the girls explained that I’ve been working hard this summer and I too could benefit from some pampering so I would be required to take part in the family adventure this time. Like finely tuned warriors, ninjas maybe, the girls sensed my introduction of excuses and countered them with a wide gamut of solid facts and their rationale behind my taking part, refusing to take no as an answer. Seeing that I was making no headway, I reluctantly agreed to lay aside any fears and embarrassment and take part in the adventure.

When we arrived at the spa location, I will admit I was a bit nervous. Not nervous about the act of receiving a pedicure or some stranger gazing upon my fifty-plus-year-old feet, but rather the true possibility that I would be the only male in the room and one of my friends might see me. For many, a man getting a pedicure is no big deal; for a crusty, old, retired cop, being seen by his fellow cops getting beauty work done, well you know how that might go over at the station house.

Mustering every bit of strength, I carried on. How bad could it be? It was early, surely the place would be empty, and my family and I could quickly get done, the girls would be happy, and we would be on our way. As I entered the door my worst fears were brought to the surface. My wife disagrees but I’m pretty sure I heard the gasp from the multitude of ladies as I walked in. To my dismay the place was full of ladies, some getting nails done, some feet, some I have no idea what was happening, but it didn’t look good. All silently looking at the sole man daring to enter their peaceful, man-free, domain.

Luckily, as I played it off, I met a few ladies who were overly kind, and supportive, although I’m relatively certain my nervousness became somewhat of a game for them watching along wondering when I may break. With each joke and comment they became more and more emboldened, warning me about the upcoming portion of the pedicure process and how, although unpleasant, in the end would be worth it.

The act of taking part in an adventure which the rest of the family gets so much enjoyment out of was, in the end, fun for me. By taking part, letting my walls down, I was able to not only strengthen the bonds between my family and I, but also met some genuinely funny souls along the way. So often we hesitate to step outside our norm. Our fears, or overall comfort tend to supersede our willingness to experience new things. When we do, it is then that the doors are opened wide to fully experience life and smiling alongside two precious little souls because we tagged along and were willing to lay aside our comfort for their happiness. I’m not going to say pedicures will be a thing for me in the future. But for this day, our adventure was pretty okay.

Richard J. Stephens lives in Carter County and is the father of three little ladies ranging in age from 9 to 29.