"What doing, Mama?" She, in the midst of dinner in a high-chair.

I, in the midst of a manicure on the couch.

She climbed out of her high-chair and came to me.

As if she knew instinctively what a manicure was, she spread her rosy little starfish hands out in front of me.

I painted her nails.

She admired them, as girls do.

Digit by digit, "And this one, and this one...."

She showed me her ring finger, her pinkie, her thumb.

I gave her another coat of pearly pink.

I don't know how she knew,

how she knew to just stand there and wait for it to dry,

to inspect and admire them.

It's like she came with a Toolkit of Girly and was just now getting to use some of the finer implements.

I don't know how a beautician feels,

giving girls their first manicures.

I only know how I felt tonight,

like all of my most fantastic dreams had come true

in the form of 10 little pearly pink fingernails.