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Some People Should Not Be Allowed in Spas....
This weekend is my 18th anniversary. It's my husband's, too! Neat how that works.

Anyway, I've been agonizing over what to get him, and on Wednesday, when I was feeling particularly like a worm of a wife, I received a phone call confirming my appointment at the spa for today. I didn't know I had an appointment. It seems my husband booked one, and was going to surprise me.

Surprise over!

But I was still happy he took such care of me, and that he wanted to pamper me. Really, I was.

But I'm not the pampering type. I try to be, but I find it very hard to relax. Nevertheless, this was a gift, so dutifully I went.

After preparing myself, of course. You can't go for a manicure and a pedicure and a facial and a massage without making sure your legs and underarms are totally shaved, and that your nails aren't gross, and that you smell nice. I basically gave myself a manicure before I left home so the manicurist wouldn't see how gross I am.

It's like tidying before the cleaning lady comes.

Anyway, I arrive, and the masseuse asks me to take off all my clothes from the waist up and lie on this nice table with lots of pillows. I guess she's used to naked women. So she leaves the room, undress, and lie there, with my head in the funny face pillow, thinking I'm going to suffocate.

She came back and gave me a wonderful massage, although I turned my head like you're not supposed to because I just couldn't breathe in that pillow.

All the while strange Indian music was playing. Do people not like Beethoven anymore?

Next it was the facial, manicure, and pedicure all at the same time! I felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality. Remember that scene? "Eyebrows: There should be two!". The three workers all look like nurses, and I'm in what looks like a hospital bed, except that there's this little opening in it for a foot bath. They really should put that in the Emergency Rooms. It would help people calm down.

So I feel like I'm getting some MAJOR PROCEDURE done, like a hyseterectomy or something, it all looks so official.

And then, as they start, I remember something very important. I don't like people touching my feet. Especially people filing my toenails. So I had to concentrate really hard to avoid kicking the pedicure woman. She really didn't deserve that.

But while the first foot bothered me, by the second foot I was fine with it. I think, however, it was because the woman working on my face was at that time doing what she called an "extraction", which is the same thing that we called "popping blackheads" when we were 13. Remember when you used to pop them just to see how much stuff you could get out? Well, it doesn't hurt when you do it to yourself. It does hurt when someone else does it to you. So it made me forget all about my little pinky toe!

At the end one of the girls was massaging my hands, one my feet, and one my neck. It was so relaxing. And all I kept thinking was, "you know ladies, I have my knitting in my purse. Maybe it you let me sit up I could knit for a bit." But I guess that would have wrecked my nails.

And then I figured something out. I don't like people giving to me. I feel guilty relaxing. I really do. It's not just that I would rather be knitting; it's that I can't sit still.

That's not a good thing. There's nothing wrong with relaxing every now and then. There's nothing wrong with being pampered. And it was so sweet of my husband to order this, so I really should just relax.

And I did, for the last five minutes. And it was nice.

When they let me get dressed again, I looked around the room, and I saw this:

Apparently electrolysis for transgendered people is big business. I suppose it is, but then I got this creepy feeling in that little room. And since I had my cell phone, I took a picture. So I started to snoop around, and I saw this little gem, too. They do electrolysis on adolescents who may be embarrassed about unwanted hair. Isn't that a little bit much?

Relaxing is great. Going overboard and getting all creepy is not. So let's keep it all in perspective, and maybe do each other's nails every now and then. Mine do look great, and I've only wrecked one so far!

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At 6:56 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said…

I have never had my nails done professionally. My friend Missy used to paint them in study hall in high school. I have also never been to a spa or had a massage. I feel like I am like you - I don't like to be pampered. My hubby rubs my back and shoulders when I need a quick relax and I sometimes remembers to pluck my eybrows. I just don't care. I am happy with how I am and how I was created. Not that I don't take care of myself and respect my Creator..but I agree...some people, esp women, try too hard to make themselves "look" better than they feel!
Thanks for the post.


At 9:24 AM , Blogger Beth@Pages of Our Life said…

I have a very hard time relaxing too! I want to have something in my hands to do.

But your day sounded so funny.

Happy Anniversary to you both!


At 12:35 PM , Blogger Mel said…

I will admit I am one of those folks who love pedicures, facials and massages!!! But I do have to make myself relax..


At 3:33 PM , Blogger Megan said…

I never thought I would be a "massage" person, but through a strange set of circumstances I ended up having my first hour-long aromatherapy massage a few years ago, and I've returned a couple of times since (usually to celebrate making it through some stressful period of life). I have the opposite reaction you did: I figure I am PAYING this person to pamper me, so I can completely relax and indulge in the simple physical pleasure of the massage without feeling bad about someone "giving" to me. I feel so good afterwards that I almost feel like I'm not safe to drive :-).

As always, I enjoyed the post! I hope you have a wonderful anniversary weekend!!

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About Me

Name: Sheila

Home: Belleville, Ontario, Canada

About Me: I'm a Christian author of a bunch of books, and a frequent speaker to women's groups and marriage conferences. Best of all, I love homeschooling my daughters, Rebecca and Katie. And I love to knit. Preferably simultaneously.

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