Pre-children I used to have my nails done every 2 weeks and yesterday, as I was walking past the nail salon with an hour to spare, I decided I’d have them done for old times sake and to cheer myself up after a crappy few days. 

Unfortunately there was a misunderstanding between myself and the lovely Vietnamese nail technician, who seemed to be filing my nails into some sort of arrow shape?! Was this just a new method of filing? Would the end result be ok? No. No it wouldn’t. Stiletto nails! She was giving me stiletto nails! 

 
Being terribly British I couldn’t bring myself to tell her until she was onto the third nail. She was mortified and offered to take them off and start again but I didn’t have time and told her it’d be fine and to carry on. It’s not really fine. 

It’s not really fine because I’m now basically unable to cope with life. Not only are these nails essentially pincers, they also have some serious camber on them! Here is a little taster of what I cannot do with these godforsaken nails:

• Send a text that makes any kind of sense
• Use the self service checkout in Tesco
• Open the back of Mr Potato Head to retrieve his spectacles at the request of my toddler (thus resulting in said toddler having a nervous breakdown)
• Take just one baby wipe out of the packet (taking at least ten out at once is achievable, however)
• Pick up a pound off the floor after dropping it (resulting in walking away from the pound and being disproportionately sad about it for the rest of the day)

As you can see, it’s a pretty sorry state of affairs. Plus the pincer-nails make my already sausage fingers look positively Cumberlandish. On the plus side, I imagine these pincer-nails can be used in lieu of a hot drinks stirrer or a screwdriver. Always handy things to have at your fingertips.

    
Moral of the story: never feel shy to tell the Vietnamese nail technician that you didn’t ask for pincer-nails today.