An illumination, by request

One of the most interesting things about being married to a man who’s earned a PhD in mathematics is watching how new acquaintances behave when they find out.

I’ve observed two typical reactions.

1. The acquaintance immediately launches into talk about how he or she hates math, can't do math, never understood math, is afraid of math, etc. The babbling usually lasts until Husband can get a word in edgewise, at which point he begins soothing talk that calms them down and helps them realize that one does not have to be good at math to be friends with him. He likes sports, grilling out and playing card and board games. But he doesn’t require that his friends know how to use the Fibonacci tables.

2. The acquaintance gets intimidated and sarcastic, and begins tossing barbs designed to knock Husband down a couple of pegs. Fortunately, he’s developed a gentle and effective way to redirect their energies. He simply takes them seriously and engages them in a conversation about what they’ve thrown at him. It totally disarms them and everyone ends up friends.

My favorite example of this happened at a chef’s dinner at a fancy-schmancy restaurant in downtown D.C. The attendees: My management colleagues and their spouses and partners, all desperate to get the goods on the new man in my life.

One spouse, a woman whom I adore, can sometimes be a bit much, especially after a few glasses of wine. She was true to form that night. About two-thirds of the way through the evening, she found the chair next to Husband empty and threw herself into it.

“You’re new,” she said.

“I am,” he replied.

“I hear you're a mathematician,” she said.

“I am,” he replied.

“Well, do me some math,” she purred.

Without missing a beat, he said, “Algebra or calculus?”

“Calculus,” she answered.

And off they went.

By the end of the conversation, during which they attracted the attention of everyone else at the table, she was completely charmed. No one got hurt. And the evening was a success.

It’s in that spirit that I answer an anonymous request — the tone of which I’m not able to discern and therefore will take seriously — to illuminate you all on pedicures.

1. The word pedicure comes from the Latin words pedis and cura, which translate to “care of the foot.“

2. A good pedicure doesn’t just involve the toenails. It removes dead skin and calluses from the bottom of the feet. And it includes a massage of the feet and calves.

3. The first pedicure I ever had was in Austin, Texas, by a woman named Jennifer. It felt so good I fell asleep.

4. Because of the positive impact they have on my psyche, I often promise myself I will get on a regular schedule of pedicures. I have never made good on that promise.

5. It is legal in Virginia for a professional aesthetician to use a modified razor to remove the calluses and dead skin from one’s feet. It is not legal in Maryland or North Carolina. And that’s a shame.

6. My favorite color of toenail polish is Garnet, by Esse. I’m not able to find it here, but I can order it online.

7. One of my favorite days of the year is the day I can first wear open-toed shoes. I won’t do it, though, until I’ve had my first pedicure of the season.

8. You can ruin a good pedicure experience by trying to cram your toes into those foam toe separators. There are more humane ways to keep your toes from bumping into each other while you paint them, and a good aesthetician knows to use them.

9. I love to go with a girlfriend to have a pedicure done, but I don’t like to talk while it’s happening. Paying attention to the pampering is the biggest part of a pedicure for me. Beautiful toes are just a nice bonus.

10. If you’re smart and you marry the right man, he’ll give you a pedicure, complete with a foot bath, massage and painting. And he won’t make you solve a single quadratic equation in return.