inheritance

my father was a fanatic about clean fingernails. he'd inspect them at dinner time and if they weren't clean enough, he'd send us back to the bathroom. i remember one time he pinned me down by the sink and took a nail brush to my nails, scrubing them to his satisfaction. clean fingernails commanded respect. dirty fingernails signaled a degenerate personality.

consequently, i'm super concious of my nails. the thing is, they get dirty so quickly. i usually clip them very short to avoid having the white parts get dirty or stained. i remember one time i used fresh tumeric for a recipe and was so ashamed of my nails i kept my hands in my pocket or my fingers tucked in whenever i could.

i guess i'd be a good candidate for a french manicure, if i could tolerate someone else fiddling with my nails (to me that's almost as bad as squeaking styrofoam). today, i'm wishing i'd given them a good scrub before i left the house. or trimmed them a little more. but a good nail brush is hard to find. my dad used boar bristles, but he had some sort of heirloom. boar bristles aren't so common any more - at least i've not managed to find one. most modern nail brushes are too soft or too stiff.