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Language Exposure at the Nail Shop

Language Exposure at the Nail Shop

“Soooo the other day, my son and I decided to hit up the nail salon. He’d been bugging me about it for a minute, and I finally caved. You know how trying something new has that touch of magic, right? Well, let’s dive in as I take you through the wild ride of my son’s first nail salon adventure—a tale packed with curiosity, giggles, and those simple childhood joys that light up life.
As we stepped into the nail salon, my little man turned into a whirlwind of questions. “What’s this? What’s that?” he fired away. We settled into our pedicure chairs, and the barrage of inquiries continued. “What’s this contraption for? Why’s she doing that?” And it didn’t stop there—more “What’s this?” and “What’s that?” kept flying.


The peak of his interrogation came when he asked, “What are they saying?” He was talking about the nail technicians, of course. So, I leaned in and explained as gently as I could that they were speaking a different language, Vietnamese. The little guy comes back with, “I wish they were talking like us. Can we go somewhere that talks like us next time?” I swear, I was utterly flabbergasted. Not mad, just floored. Part of me wanted to chuckle, and the other part wanted to shush him. So, I rolled with it and went on to tell him that languages and cultures are diverse, and it’s cool to learn and embrace ’em. But, you know how it goes with a 6-year-old—he was over it, making jokes and cracking up.


I brushed it off and we got back to our pedicures. He goes with pink for his nail color. I offered clear polish, but nope, he’s all about that pink life. I’m supporting his choices, even if they’re a color-changing adventure from blue to rainbow before settling on pink—hilarious.


Now he’s rocking pink toes that, like most of us, smudged before we even left the place. It was a riot. I used his slightly messy toes to explain why maybe finger polish is not the move right now. He’d been hounding me during the salon trip about painting his fingernails, and my answer was a consistent no.


He wasn’t feeling my decision and decided to go all silent treatment on me. Little did he know, that was a gift. Anyway, he had to deliver it respectfully, which he didn’t at first. I gave him a little guidance on that, and before you know it, he was back to his chatterbox self in like, I don’t know, 20 seconds, maybe a minute. Who’s keeping track? Could’ve been longer, but it felt quicker than a blink. He was back to bouncing, asking a gazillion questions, and sliding out of the chair like a little tornado.


And the energy didn’t fizzle out when he hit the bathroom. He went full big boy mode—down the hall where I could still keep an eye on him, no need for me to be all up in his business.


When he sauntered out of the bathroom, he paused by the entrance to the break area. He eavesdropped on the conversation for a second, then popped the question, “What are y’all talking about?” They didn’t answer, and he did this exaggerated facepalm and strutted away. Talk about a dramatic exit.


This kiddo is acting like people can’t chat in languages other than English. Mind you, he’s been around different languages like French and Spanish.


As a mom, I felt a tad embarrassed. Time to step up the cultural teaching game, right? It’s not enough to just talk about differences; we gotta dive in and experience ’em too.
So, how do you introduce your kids to culture? What tricks have you got up your sleeve?
I’ll keep you posted as I figure it out.”

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