Katy was seven when John and I got married, and she used to love having me paint her nails and do her hair. She was as cute as a button, which made it even more fun to get her all dolled up. Often I would pick up those cheap little trinkets you can find at Target or the mall, pretend make-up or jewelry, and on the weekends we would have fun playing with them.
One week I found tiny little "press on " nails, Barbie themed if I recall, and she was thrilled. Having never worn fake nails myself I wasn't aware of how difficult it was to actually have them applied to the tips of ones finger, and how impossible to get anything done while wearing them.
All weekend long I would find ten tiny little plastic nails, neatly arranged in two rows, left in different places throughout the house. The worst - and the one that always comes to mind - was when I walked into the bathroom and saw, delicately placed on the toilet lid, all ten fingernails.
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