I woke up at 2:30 am with a start. Pierce had his middle finger half an inch from my nose.
“You see that finger Momma?”
Why yes, yes I do. Even without my glasses, I can see your finger. I grunted.
“You clip it, Momma?”
I do believe this is the first time I’ve ever been woke up to clip a little person’s fingernails. There’s a first time for everything.
I felt his fingernail. I couldn’t find anything obviously wrong with it. It was barely to the end of his finger. “Can it wait until it’s light out?”
Great. See you then.
This morning Pierce had a big scratch across his face. He met me as I descended the stairs with a clipper, fully prepared to have me clip the finger the moment I awoke. Apparently I’d felt the wrong finger. Or my three year old just felt that the opportunity to present his middle finger to me was too good to be true. Or he woke me up from a dead sleep and I only thought I could see his finger. Either way, his razor sharp peeling fingernail scratched his face and I clipped it too late, too short. I’m pretty sure the peeling is what caused the problem – but now it’s my fault that it hurts.
Just to be sure I didn’t get woke up again tonight, I clipped them all. Then I cut his hair for good measure.