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This year, my husband, Scott, surprised me with a pedicure for Mother's Day.

It sounded very relaxing. He said, "You don't have to do a thing. I'll even get the nail polish."

I thought this sounded lovely. I remembered for a minute that he is colorblind, but quickly dismissed the thought.

When he arrived home from shopping, I asked, "What color did you pick?"

He reached into the bag and pulled out a school bus yellow bottle of polish.

"I've never seen that color before," I told him.

"Anne, it's the color of Alexander Ovetchken's skate laces. I had to buy it."

Now, I understand hockey fan loyalty, but seriously? The color of a hockey player's laces? Did he ever think Anne isn't a fan of yellow? Obviously not.

To be a good sport and to appreciate the thought behind the gift, I went along. Well, not only is he colorblind, he has horrible peripheral vision. It looked like a kindergartner finger-painted my toes! I had yellow all over my cuticles. When he offered to do my fingernails to match, I quickly replied, "Oh, no! You have done so much for me already."

I hoped no one would notice my feet, but in a state where flip-flops are considered formal wear, they are out for viewing all day, every day. And believe me, people noticed. I was at the grocery store when an older lady spotted my yellow polish. "Well, aren't you bright today?" she remarked.

I explained that it was a gift from my husband. "Really?" she said as she raised her eyebrow. "Are you still married?"

I told her, "It was a very sweet gesture and I love it."

After two weeks of remarks from strangers about my pedicure, I decided to get a color change. At the nail salon, a lady came to do my pedicure, and naturally, she asked about my Alexander Ovetchkin's skate lace color polish. I told her, "My husband did this as a gift."

She burst out laughing. "Yor huband do this to yu? Hahahaha!"

I tried to explain that he did it for Mother's Day, as a gift from the heart. By now, six other women were cackling, and all I could understand was, "Her huband do dat to huh, tee hee hee." They were huddling in a fit of hysterics. One by one, they came by to inspect my feet. "Oh, yor huband? You like your huband?" they asked and chuckled.

The owner of the salon came over to see what all the commotion was about."Yor huband must be berry sweet. I wish my huband do dis for me."

Naturally, I picked Ovechkin's skate lace yellow for my nail polish color once again. Husband and hockey rock!

- Anne Bardsley

Anne Bardsley lives in St Petersburg, Fla., with her "wrinkle maker" of a husband and two spoiled cockatoos. She's still recovering from raising five children. She is so happy she didn't strangle them as teenagers as they've given her beautiful grandchildren. She is the author of How I Earned My Wrinkles: Musings on Marriage, Motherhood and Menopause. She blogs at Anz World.