Because They Only Get DNA From Fingerprints

9:00 IN THE MORNING FOUND ME IRRITATED.

I had a chipped nail.

It wasn’t all that dramatic, as much as it was annoying. I usually don’t let my nails get too long, matter of fact the shorter they are the better. Recently I’ve let them slide past my fingertips until I could probably give one heck of a good back scratch. I knew this would be my downfall. I had no clippers handy, and nothing to use as an emery board when that nail edge decided to jump ship and part like the Red Sea. I’d rather bite off my finger than bite off a fingernail, so that was out of the question. I’m not much of a fan of nail biting.

After hours of running my finger over and over and OVER the edge of that pitiful nail, I decided to take some action. Big Lots, here I come, my one stop shop for food, snacks, random items and birthday presents. Did you know Bigs (as I affectionately call it) doesn’t carry loose nail clippers? The only pair I could find were shrink wrapped in plastic and cardboard. Too obvious if I were to open and use it. Next best thing was a little girly fingernail kit, with a zipper top. This was my weapon of choice, and Internet, I am confessing right now that I STOLE FROM BIG LOTS. Well, not so much stole, as temporarily borrowed an emery board from that pack, and used it to file down the haggard, chipped nail. Then I put it back, did a turnabout and walked right out of the store.  Forgetting that the door said PUSH,  I made a raucous on the way out when I walked right smack into the glass.

Obviously, I don’t have a robbers touch.

My mothers only response to this story?

“My WORD you are cheap!”