Last night I took the girls for their much anticipated and first-ever pedicure. I gave them an idea of what to expect, but it was like a sociological experiment watching the two of them absorb all the happenings around them. Their eyes darted back and forth to the women speaking an unknown language, the Paris Hilton-like snobby twenty-something next to Logan, the mom and her homecoming high schoolers and the kind-hearted African American mom of four, dangling her two-year old daughter in the foot bath while she relaxed. (I can’t imagine bringing Finn in there – ever!)
I won’t go back though, because although I’m not a connoisseur, it was the worst pedicure I’ve ever had. There were smudges all over my skin that I had to remove at home and that just seems silly. More significant though, was the event that took place with poor Logan, who couldn’t have been more excited about this first girly-girl experience.
Soon after sitting in the chair, the seemingly unhappy woman Logan had the unfortunate luck to get, asked her name. When she told her, the woman belted out for the whole shop to hear, “You have a boy’s name?” As Logan’s little face began to fall, the woman turned right to me, “She has a boy’s name?”
“No, she has a girl’s name,” I said.
“No. Logan is boy’s name. It is boy?” this ignoramus responded.
“What? Are you kidding me? She is a girl!” I said.
“No, I always say, “If I have baby boy, I will name him Logan,” she said.
“Look, it is a girl’s name because it is her name and she is a girl, okay?” I fumed. Logan perked up a bit. "It is a name that can go either way!" If my eyes could have burned a hole through her soul, they would have.
As if some force of nature arrived, every other woman in the shop immediately chimed in and raised my daughter's spirit.
“Yes, it’s a girl’s name!” the mom of four announced.
“If you name your son that, he’ll be teased – it’s a girl’s name,” another manicurist laughed.
“It’s a really pretty name!” Riley proudly proclaimed.
And it went on and was brushed over. Logan did great, but I squirmed and shuffled, just aching to get her away from that woman.
On the way home, I asked what they thought about their pedicures. “Awesome!” they both replied.
Then I asked Logan how that whole thing made her feel. “Bad,” she said with tears arriving to prove it.
Riley and I told her how beautiful her name is and I even said how stupid the woman was. I said I’d never go back because of how insensitive that one woman was. I said how great I thought all those other women were. I said I was sorry.
She poured over with energy as she told us how she felt, and ended with this:
“I love my name, because it came from God. He told you and Daddy to give it to me, so it’s perfect.”
She rocks. What a smarty. And I’m thankful for the experience they had of that band of women, strangers, circling Logan to protect her when they were needed. I’m so glad for the glimpse at what an amazing group they are a part of. We might not go back, but we certainly won’t regret it!
Oh, and their piggies turned out pretty cute. Bubble gum pink with heart decals for Logan and bright red with yellow daisies for Riley.