Well I can't believe I am going to share this with you, but here goes...
I am an idiot. There - I said it. Now let me tell you one of the many reasons why:
It is Sunday night. My mom and I are leaving EARLY in the morning to go visit my grandmother in Michigan. I am also going to be seeing my cousins, whom I love dearly (I mean I love my grandma dearly too, but it's different...)
So it's a proven fact that I have some disgusting toenails. I mean it. I know everybody thinks their toenails are nasty, but I have had comments made, such as "Ewwww, what happened to your toenails!?!", "Oh, we need to cover those babies up!" and years ago my niece spoke one of her first full sentences of her life and said, "You have icky toes Aunt Shermie." So that's proof... I have disgusting toenails.
My dreams of wearing flip-flops and sandals came true when I discovered fake toenails! They are exactly like the fingernails that you can buy, but they fit on your toes. I mean...wow, I couldn't believe my good fortune! The first time I ever stumbled upon them was just a few years ago, and the first couple of times I always gave my mother the pleasure of helping me glue them on. (This is just another in a long line of reasons why I could never be a mother...oh the sacrifices!) So here I am, Sunday night before my trip and I get out of the shower, dry off and decide to place my toenails on my toes...by myself. Neat, huh? You can maybe see where this is going - straight to Disaster Land. All goes well with the first foot. All five toes each have their properly placed nails and do they look GORGEOUS!!! Oh I am so proud, especially considering I am not a monkey and with my rotund middle section, I am having trouble reaching my feet.
So on to the other foot. First toenail, great. The big toe is the easiest really. Second toe - cool. No problems. Third toe is getting to the tinier nails. I put the super nail glue on the back and start to press it to my toe. Oh, wait...it's sticking to my finger. The glue must have come off by now, so a little more glue will work. Okay - oops. Nope. Sticking to my finger now is the fake nail, oh and now my other finger is also sticking to my finger. Somehow the toothpick thingy that comes along with the kit to help press the nails on is also stuck between my fingers that are stuck together. Most certainly if I am patient, the fingers will separate a little. Ow ow ow. Oh my god. Am I really this moronic?
I somehow get up off my living room floor (a site I am certainly glad I didn't have to watch) and go to the kitchen. Warm water will soften the glue and my fingers will easily come apart. No. That is not true. With my free hand I reach in and find a paring knife. I know...I know what you're thinking. Really? She is this idiotic that she is now reaching for a knife? Yes. My plan is to cut the glue, NOT my finger. Oh the burning - when I try to pull my fingers apart, I find it hard to believe people cannot use this method to get rid of their fingerprints when they go to commit crimes. Ow ow ow. It hurts. And also on my left hand (the one where my fingers are all moving independently) there is a big dried chunk of super nail glue behind my index finger nail. It is hard, crusty and feels very weird. Plus it doesn't come out. So I try to ignore that and train my attention to attempting to surgically separate my conjoined fingers. I am not sure if I am actually cutting the glue, but as I pull my fingers apart, I can feel a sense of accomplishment as they are actually separating! Whoo hoo...ow ow ow. Yeah - not quite there yet. It seemed like forever but was probably just a few minutes of me using my tiny paring knife to saw at my fingers ever so slightly. But it works and eventually - ahhh. Freedom. I triumphantly wave my hand in the air and wiggle all my fingers to make sure: a) they are still attached; b) there is no blood; and c) well, a and b are enough. So yay - success! I almost...ALMOST...forgot what caused all this in the first place until I saunter back into the living room amazed at the genius that is me and that I didn't end up at the emergency room needing a real surgeon. Then... the reminder. There are the rest of my nails on the floor, along with the tube of super nail glue, and I look down at the two fake-nail-less nails remaining on my foot.
"Why, I can hardly see them anyway, " I say outloud to no one in particular, "so I can just leave those go." I am not brave enough to tackle those pesky little tiny toenails that are all scrunched up anyway. Probably by the time I wake up in the morning I'll have to go digging through the bedsheets to find those that popped off during the night anyway. So, needless to say, I am having difficulty typing this. "Why?" you ask. "Is it the sheer embarrassment of being such a nitwit that you are having trouble sharing your story?"
No. Duh - I can't feel three of my fingertips and I am having difficulty typing this! Jeez.
I am an idiot. There - I said it. Now let me tell you one of the many reasons why:
It is Sunday night. My mom and I are leaving EARLY in the morning to go visit my grandmother in Michigan. I am also going to be seeing my cousins, whom I love dearly (I mean I love my grandma dearly too, but it's different...)
So it's a proven fact that I have some disgusting toenails. I mean it. I know everybody thinks their toenails are nasty, but I have had comments made, such as "Ewwww, what happened to your toenails!?!", "Oh, we need to cover those babies up!" and years ago my niece spoke one of her first full sentences of her life and said, "You have icky toes Aunt Shermie." So that's proof... I have disgusting toenails.
My dreams of wearing flip-flops and sandals came true when I discovered fake toenails! They are exactly like the fingernails that you can buy, but they fit on your toes. I mean...wow, I couldn't believe my good fortune! The first time I ever stumbled upon them was just a few years ago, and the first couple of times I always gave my mother the pleasure of helping me glue them on. (This is just another in a long line of reasons why I could never be a mother...oh the sacrifices!) So here I am, Sunday night before my trip and I get out of the shower, dry off and decide to place my toenails on my toes...by myself. Neat, huh? You can maybe see where this is going - straight to Disaster Land. All goes well with the first foot. All five toes each have their properly placed nails and do they look GORGEOUS!!! Oh I am so proud, especially considering I am not a monkey and with my rotund middle section, I am having trouble reaching my feet.
So on to the other foot. First toenail, great. The big toe is the easiest really. Second toe - cool. No problems. Third toe is getting to the tinier nails. I put the super nail glue on the back and start to press it to my toe. Oh, wait...it's sticking to my finger. The glue must have come off by now, so a little more glue will work. Okay - oops. Nope. Sticking to my finger now is the fake nail, oh and now my other finger is also sticking to my finger. Somehow the toothpick thingy that comes along with the kit to help press the nails on is also stuck between my fingers that are stuck together. Most certainly if I am patient, the fingers will separate a little. Ow ow ow. Oh my god. Am I really this moronic?
I somehow get up off my living room floor (a site I am certainly glad I didn't have to watch) and go to the kitchen. Warm water will soften the glue and my fingers will easily come apart. No. That is not true. With my free hand I reach in and find a paring knife. I know...I know what you're thinking. Really? She is this idiotic that she is now reaching for a knife? Yes. My plan is to cut the glue, NOT my finger. Oh the burning - when I try to pull my fingers apart, I find it hard to believe people cannot use this method to get rid of their fingerprints when they go to commit crimes. Ow ow ow. It hurts. And also on my left hand (the one where my fingers are all moving independently) there is a big dried chunk of super nail glue behind my index finger nail. It is hard, crusty and feels very weird. Plus it doesn't come out. So I try to ignore that and train my attention to attempting to surgically separate my conjoined fingers. I am not sure if I am actually cutting the glue, but as I pull my fingers apart, I can feel a sense of accomplishment as they are actually separating! Whoo hoo...ow ow ow. Yeah - not quite there yet. It seemed like forever but was probably just a few minutes of me using my tiny paring knife to saw at my fingers ever so slightly. But it works and eventually - ahhh. Freedom. I triumphantly wave my hand in the air and wiggle all my fingers to make sure: a) they are still attached; b) there is no blood; and c) well, a and b are enough. So yay - success! I almost...ALMOST...forgot what caused all this in the first place until I saunter back into the living room amazed at the genius that is me and that I didn't end up at the emergency room needing a real surgeon. Then... the reminder. There are the rest of my nails on the floor, along with the tube of super nail glue, and I look down at the two fake-nail-less nails remaining on my foot.
"Why, I can hardly see them anyway, " I say outloud to no one in particular, "so I can just leave those go." I am not brave enough to tackle those pesky little tiny toenails that are all scrunched up anyway. Probably by the time I wake up in the morning I'll have to go digging through the bedsheets to find those that popped off during the night anyway. So, needless to say, I am having difficulty typing this. "Why?" you ask. "Is it the sheer embarrassment of being such a nitwit that you are having trouble sharing your story?"
No. Duh - I can't feel three of my fingertips and I am having difficulty typing this! Jeez.
