Every year when hunting season hits, the women of my immediate family go a little bit crazy. I'm not sure if it's because of the abundance of estrogen running through our normally testosterone based household - but for whatever reason - girlfriend time abounds and thrives.

Hubby ever so kindly took both our boys with him to the cabin this weekend. As a result, Taters and I quickly surmised that a weekend of retail therapy, manicures, and beach time would be just what the doctor ordered for two lonely ladies.

We started off our weekend with a trip to the mall where I paid approximately $11 an ounce for sultry naughtiness and satin at Victoria's secret. Ok, maybe so much sultry - afterall I've had three children - but they're undies and if you took away half the material you could produce another thong..or two. But I digress.

I was perfectly content looking at all the goodies until Tater's started grabbing lacy things off the shelf and began asking the lovely clerks to try them on. Totally weirded out and not ready to deal with the questions associated with sexy lingerie, I decided it was time to leave. After our shopping trip, we went to the mall nail place where I we obtained some pretty manicures. Not content with her short nails, Tater's begged me for a set of acrylics and I was quick to point out the disadvantages of long nails. She wasn't fully accepting of my excuses but finally settled on bright purple polish for her little fingernails after I threatened an brownish orange color to perk up her fingertips.

As we left the mall, we happened to pass by the cheap jewelry, goopy makeup and tawdry hair clip store for young ladies, Taters looked in and saw something that immediately caught her eye - press on hookah nails. I'm sorry if you don't like the name, "hookah." but anything that extends one inch past your fingertip and contains rhinestones and glitter, deserves the "hookah" title. She begged, she pleaded - she promised me endless foot rubs and litter box changing for a year - until I finally succumbed. I carefully inspected the little bits of womanliness and decided to let her buy a set. For $5, how good would these things actually stick on? I gave it an evening at the most...

Later that night, after spending all of our money and filling our bellies with Thai food, we returned to the confines of our female only mansion, and spread out the fingernails, comparing the sizes to her tiny nail beds, and admired their overall girlishness.

Mommazilla: You know Taters, things are a bit challenging with long nails. And these are really long.
Taters: Oh Mother! I know! As she rolls her eyes at me. But they look so awesome - I can totally deal with it.
Mommazilla: Ok, I just don't want to hear any griping later. I'm not entirely sure how well these things are gonna stick and they may just pop off. Alright?
Taters: Whatever Maaaaoooommmm... Just put'em on already!

Rather nonchalantly, I slathered the glue on each nail, and slapped them onto her nail tips. I honestly didn't think for $5 we were getting any sort of adhesive product that would actually keep things stuck together. I did notice that my thumb and pointer finger stuck together rather well but I hoped the nail to nail bed connection was not as fantastic.

Here's the final product taken courtesy of my new crackberry:

For the rest of the night, all I heard was the tapping of nails - on countertops, walls, dishes, teeth - you name it, she tapped it. She investigated how to pick up things off the counter, how to keep her nails clean while eating, how to pose and throw up her hands in the mirror so that her 10 little daggers gleamed in the light of the bathroom. She was totally enjoying the sense of being what she considered to be a true woman.

The first little bit of nail awkwardness arrived at bedtime when she realized she could not longer suck her fingers. I was perfectly happy with this as it's a nasty habit the dentist and I are trying to break her of. She looked rather forlorn laying on the pillow and staring at me with big eyes.

"Mom, if I suck my fingers I might lose a nail, huh? That would really suck." She sounded a little upset at this and I smiled as she finally convinced herself to drift off to sleep.

The next morning, the next bit of reality sunk in when she realized how her life had been affected.

"Maaaooommm! How do I scratch the inside of my nose? How do I wipe my butt if I have to? I've poked myself in the eye three times and it hurts when I scratch my head. I've lost all personal hygiene!"

She honestly looked completely freaked out; eyes dilated, dry mouth, and lip quivering.

"I need these things off, NOW! I can't handle it anymore!"

And for the next hour, we soaked her hookah nails in polish remover until she was eventually able to pry her personal weapons from her fingertips and she was once again placed into the shoes of a little girl.

We've chatted a bit since this little round of drama, and she's decided that long nails are no longer her forte and she is happy to just live with her chewed on nail beds and cracked nails. It was a fun watching her with the nails because it reminded me of the old days, hanging out with my girlfriends and applying bright red Lee Press-On nails. I doubt I could get Taters to even go that route again - which is gonna save me a fortune :-).