About a month ago, Ezra dropped a really heavy power adapter thingy on his big toe. After the squealing and wailing subsided, he was left with a toenail that had seen better days. It was all purple and blue, and so the official count-down began for ‘Operation Toenail Watch’, where we each guessed how long it would be before we found the damaged nail lying discarded on the floor somewhere and had one less obstacle to overcome when putting on Ezra’s shoes and socks everyday. Ezra already makes it hard enough to put on his shoes with the wiggling and the kicking, but add a sensitive toenail onto that and you have yourself a whole-day-ordeal. (“Ok, buddy! We finally got your shoes on! Oh, but what’s this? It’s dark outside and time for bed again? Ah well, better luck tomorrow!”)
‘Operation Toenail Watch’ has been a month long ordeal, and was finally brought to a head last night after Chris and I noticed the toenail was becoming INGROWN on top of everything else and needed to be “helped along” before we ended up at the Podiatrists office where they would scowl at me and tell me that ‘this toe should never have been left like this for so long’ and then charged me $300 for a complex procedure involving a pair of tweezers and a dollop of Neosporin.
So, last night, in the cover of darkness, I snuck into Ezra’s room and tried to maneuver the old toenail off myself without waking him up. Now, let me just say that “toenail stuff” is almost as repulsive to me as the thought of being forced to eat Seafood… Just talking about it makes me curl up my fingers and toes and brace myself for the inevitable CRINGING and SHUDDERING and GAGGING that I know will immediately follow. I HATE nail pain. Turns my tummy into goo. You know that commercial that’s on the television ALL THE TIME for that nail fungus prescription where those nasty little devil-monster things burrow under people’s toenails? I have felt rage and horror at being subjected to that image… so much so that I strongly considered writing the company and giving them a piece of my mind for creating such a demented commercial and having the GALL to air it in my living room. So, needless to say, it took a lot of guts for me to go in to Ezra’s room to try to help “hurry along” this renegade toenail.
Everything was going along good until suddenly Ezra twitched in his sleep. This sudden movement happened right when I had the nail in the tweezers, and it caused his nail to become even more jacked up than before… now it was sticking up like a wind sail on his big toe. He woke up crying and looking at me like, “WHAT THE HECK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING TO ME WOMAN?!?” I didn’t know what to do. I was panicked. I just rocked him and soothed him until he fell back asleep and I waited for Chris to get home.
Chris came home a while later, and I told him how I’d tried to get Ezra’s damaged toenail off and had ended up making it worse after Ezra twitched in his sleep like he had been dreaming he was a kung-fu ninja on the attack. Chris has a much higher tolerance for the ‘Toenail Heebee-Jeebees” than I do, so we decided to both go back in and see if we couldn’t get that nail off once and for all.
He walked right in there, carefully took hold of the old damaged toenail, which was barely hanging on at this point, and plucked it right off as if he were playing “She loves me, She loves me not” with the petals of a Daisy.
No prob. A little Hydrogen Peroxide and neosporin, and the little man’s toe was as good as new.
*sigh* my hero!
After this late night operation was finally over, I asked Chris if he’d kept the toenail.
“No, I threw it away”, he replied.
“Oh, that’s too bad.”, I said. “We could’ve kept it for the scrapbook.” (This is an entirely hypothetical scrapbook that I speak of… one that I plan to start for Ezra sometime between now and the day of his wedding… you know, ‘when I get around to it’)
I pictured us using this evidence as leverage for the years to come– bringing it out every once in awhile to remind Ezra that if he didn’t eat his peas or didn’t clean up his toys, daddy and mommy might have to sneak into his room late at night while he was sleeping and pull off another nail or two.