My husband and daughters enjoy a little ritual when they manage to be together: They get their nails done. Manis, pedis, foot massages, whatever they want, and our daughters can fully relax because their dad pays the bill. I’m glad my husband does this with them because I am not a fan of manicures. Or pedicures. Or massages. Or really anything that involves a stranger touching me.
At least that is what I tell them when they set off for their appointments without me. But one of my daughters challenged my excuse, asking me: If I say I don’t like strangers touching me, why don’t I have a problem with more invasive physical interactions like medical exams?
She made me think. Kids are good at that.
