"It's OK honey. You'll be beautiful. You are beautiful. The cheese grater. We'll use," her voice trailed off as the small Vietnamese woman with long slender fingers squeezed something onto my heels from a plastic bottle. "It's OK honey," she repeated while reaching into her bin for a cheese grater. Yes, the same kind I use to sprinkle Parmesan on pasta.
"You'll have baby feet," she added showing all the dead skin she peeled from my heels.
I leaned back, closing my eyes, grateful that this woman was trying hard to make this pedicure a good experience.
As I slipped my baby feet into my wool socks and clogs after the pedicure, I realized the power of a little woman and a cheese grater. Wouldn't my father who fought with his feet, be jealous and horrified at the same time!