I’m Sorry Dad, You Were Right About the Fingernail Clippers

When I was growing up my dad had his chair. The chair. And your ass had better not be sitting in it when he got home. Next to his chair was pretty much anything you could possibly ever need to do anything. He was like the original MacGyver in a La-Z-Boy or something. Since I could never find where my mom kept her fingernail clippers I would, of course, always go to my dad to get the hookup. Each time I was chided, “make sure you bring those back when you’re done”.

When you’re twelve years old your Dad’s strict rules on the comings and goings of fingernail clippers seems pretty obnoxious. Well, now I get it. I swear I must have bought about five pairs of fingernail clippers in the past two months, and I now have no idea where any of them are. I just bought my sixth pair yesterday.

I think to myself, I’ll keep them in my bag so if I’m out and need them, bam there they are. Next time I need them, poof, they’re gone. I keep them on my dresser thinking, at least I’ll always know where they’re out. Sure enough I can never find them when I need them.

I’m sorry Dad, I get it now. I will try and learn from your wise ways and always keep my fingernail clippers in the same exact place for years so I don’t go broke buying a new set of fingernail clippers every time I need to trim my nails.