BROKE A NAIL!

                                                                        

I don't have gel nails, or press on nails or any other fancy nails (though I might get some for my wedding,) but when I break a nail it inevitably leads me to the top of a slippery slippery slope. Breaking the nail happens first, next comes the ripping of jagged nail from finger, followed by filing of rough edges with teeth. The final result is always acceptable to me, but definately sub par to those forced to hold my hand or feel my scratchy fingertips on their skin.  

Apparently, I am not the only one who tries to rectify digit deficiencies with her teeth.  Scout also used her teeth to attempt a self manicure and hers turned out about as successful as mine do.  Actually, Scout did more damage to her nails than good.  We ended up having to take her to see the vet, who cleaned the ugly nail mess, who wrapped Scout's paw in a bandage and sent her home with instructions to keep the bandage dry, to keep Scout quiet and in the house and to keep Scout from walking too far for the next 5 days!  I put a plastic bag on Scout's bandaged paw and let her outside for 1 minute....so begins "nail rehab."

Looking at Scout with the plastic bag tied over her bandaged paw brought back memories of a time when I too used plastic grocery bags to keep my feet dry.  

My sisters and I used to spend hours playing in the creeks in our pasture. We each had a pair of yellow rubber boots, ONE pair of rubber boots.  It's funny, how when your a kid, you will slosh around in wet, overflowed boots for hours not wanting to stop the fun found in the creek.  Everynight, we'd turn our boots over the vents knowing that there was no way they'd be dry by morning when we'd want to head back out to the creek.  Mom's solution to wet rubber boots, was to have us stick our feet into dry, plastic shopping bags before shoving them back into our rubbers....genius!

To Marty's horror, I also busted out the old "feet in plastic bags before in boots" trick last spring when I  got a hole in my dog walking boots.  Apparently, Marty didn't understand the fact that I didn't need new boots when, for only one more month of puddles, a plastic shopping bag could keep my socks dry.  

One of these days, Marty will join us girls and wrap his digit with plastic before putting it in rubbers...he he!!!