After the turbulence of last year, the skipping school, lying, shouting matches and everything else, things are a bit better. In comparison. By my standards of normalcy it doesn't look so hot, but compared to where we were or could be if things were on the same path, she's right. They are better. She's been going to school, doing her homework. She went to youth group. Made it to the Lacrosse meeting last night to sign up (even though some of the girls were preppy b-words and made snide remarks as she walked in). I have to give her credit. I know it isn't easy. Been there.

"Well I'm not taking you to that one place over here, 'cause they do a crappy job, looking like cardboard. I did want to check out this USA Nails place, though, we can go there."

I don't regularly get my nails done, though I like how they look. I get mine done and I'm practically causing collisions with my drive-and-admire thing going on with my nails. Love to tap-tap-tap them on tables. But I also get urges to snap them off within a day, feeling handicapped. Beyond all that, though, I'm picky and rarely satisfied with how they look. But this isn't about me, it is about her.

She was thrilled to have them done, sat patiently through having her fingernails clipped and filed, glued... the smell was making me sick, though and I brought my sweatshirt up to cover my nose. Dude doing her nails asked me "Who she?" It paused, translating his question in my head, what it implied. He was inquiring as to our relation, pointing from me to her. He thought we were sisters, tee hee. Being the cynical lady that I am I figured he was trying to butter me up so I'd fall to mush and get MY nails done too since Sophia was openly campaigning for a mother-daughter-nails-did night. Not fallin' for it, buster. But being that he was pretty cool throughout the service, I think he genuinely thought we were sisters.

I picked out a silver polish (told her I was paying for it, I'd be picking the color). Ooohh, Bling Bling I said as he applied the first coat. Bling Bling yes, He answered, admiring the color. She sat under the dryer, across from another woman who had just finished getting her nails applied. Sophia asked her questions, noting the length of the woman's nails (twice as long as hers), intrigued, giving her much respect for being able to handle nails that long.

All in all, Beaner was extremely happy, tap-tap-tapping her fingernails on everything that would render a nice sound. Coming up and touching my shoulder just to see how her nails looked while she was doing it. Being a nail biter, having nails that extend beyond your fingertip is a pretty foreign concept for her to grasp. And apparently a fun thing. Let us just hope that she doesn't bite them off before tonight.

Before bed she thanked me for getting her nails done, telling me that it meant a lot to her. It meant a lot to me that she actually thanked me, but I didn't tell her that because there was no way I could without sounding like I was criticizing her.