Alice loves to wear nail polish.

At the risk of over-sharing here, I will tell you that we’ve been using it as a toilet-training incentive. Aaaaannndd that Alice isn’t managing to get her nails painted very often these days.


We were in the backyard over the weekend, and I sat her down with some watercolors while I worked on another project.  She got into a nice rhythm: Dip the brush in water, dip the brush in paint.

A few minutes later, though, I looked up and noticed she had the paints in her lap, and I couldn’t tell what she was doing with them. Imagining watercolored streaks running down her shirt, I walked over to where she was sitting and saw that she had painted each one of her fingernails bright blue. With the paint brush. And pretty well, considering.

They are so clever in ways that are so unexpected.

It might have been a good time, just then, to remind her of what she needs to do in order to have her nails really painted. But I couldn’t get over her resourcefulness.

“Oh, wow,” I told her. “That’s pretty good.”


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